


A Slightly Altered Tale

by DetectiveBiggs98



Series: Alternate Universes and What Ifs [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst and Humor, Child Abuse, Gen, Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-10 16:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10442511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveBiggs98/pseuds/DetectiveBiggs98
Summary: Wherein Reiju never freed Sanji, and his story ended up a bit different.





	1. An Imprisonment, A Deal, and A Straw Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: child abuse, imprisonment

(1)

 

It was dark, and he was scared. Sanji paced back and forth in front of the cell’s bars, hands clasped in front of his chest. He didn’t like it in here. Above, he could hear the sound of footsteps smacking the floor, hard enough to send puffs of dust raining down, sometimes directly onto him. He could even hear voices, though the words were too muffled to make out. If he could hear them, then surely the reverse should be true, shouldn’t it? So, why hadn’t they let him out yet? He’d been calling for help for _hours,_ and he was really scared.

Eyes puddling with tears, he rubbed the snot dripping from his nose on the bottom of his shirt. He’d make sure father fired those soldiers when he came for him! They were trying to kill him!

Another sniff and he paused, the parting words of his captors playing through his mind, _‘We are all working under the direct orders of the king himself.’_

They were lying. They had to be! His father wouldn’t—

He wouldn’t do that!! Never!

An image of his father flickered before him, fist clenched as though to strike him, lips pulled into a disgusted sneer. Like Sanji was the filthiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Like he didn’t care for him at all.

No, that was wrong! His father did care! He’d never hit him! Not once! Surely his father would notice he was gone and come save him!

_‘Why should I?’_

Sanji flinched.

_‘It’s clear as day that you’ll be useless as a warrior in the future. I have no obligation to help you, and I see no worth in raising you either!!’_

Teeth digging into his bottom lip, he scampered back to the bars, clutching them in a white-knuckled grip. No! He’d help him! He would!

“Father!!”

 

(2)

 

So dark. So, so dark. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open anymore. During the day, he’d be given a sliver of light from the crack beneath the door. It would reflect off the stone walls, turning the pitch black into a lighter gray. In the beginning, even that hadn’t been enough to settle his racing heart, now he wanted it more than anything. When the lights above went out, the cell would be engulfed in an ocean of black. Cold, thick, _suffocating._

Had he gone blind? Was he lying down? Where were his hands? He couldn’t tell, he couldn’t—

A choked sob escaped his throat, and Sanji curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest. Was he sitting up? On his side? Where was he again? The cot? The floor? He couldn’t remember.

He wanted his mother.

 

(3)

 

The iron mask was itchy, and he hated it. It’d been somewhat uncomfortable the first few weeks, scratchy, tight, unbearably icy to the touch. After almost a year trapped in it, he’d have thought he’d be used to it, but it’d only gotten worse. It was so heavy, even moving small distances would make the veins in his neck thrum. It was always there, a pressure that shouldn’t _be there,_ and it was wrong, and stifling, and humiliating, and he wanted it _off._ He felt like a caged animal. He was beginning to wonder if he was.

 

(4)

 

Everything hurt. A warm bead of blood escaped his nose, pooling at the place mask covered his lips. He didn’t have the energy to wipe it away. His arms thrummed, bones creaking in protest at every movement no matter how small, muscles sore and tired from his poor attempts at defending himself. He barely reacted, and the nausea that had used to surface after every ‘visit’ had long since dissipated. He should move to the cot. If he waited any longer, he’d likely pass out on the floor again, and the last time he’d done that hadn’t been a pleasant experience. He couldn’t bring himself to move.

Was this all there was to life? Nothing but bruised skin and a tight feeling in his chest? Maybe he should just...

No. No, he wanted to live. Wanted to live so badly it hurt far worse than his broken bones. Forcing himself up on shaky legs, he stumbled to the cot he still didn’t consider his.

 

(5)

 

It took three years for the bastard to realize Sanji wasn’t going to die. Sanji had long since stopped referring to that man as his parent, instead, dubbing him ‘the bastard.’ A fitting title really. He’d thrown Sanji in here because he was too spineless to kill him himself, hoping instead Sanji would end his own life, or at the very least, those fuckers he called brothers would. Oh, and they’d tried.

Tried time and time again, but Sanji was tough, always had been. He could take their punches and kicks, could take the knives and bats, the time Niji had actually brought a gun—he could survive all of that and still go down screaming insults at them. He wasn’t the scared child he used to be.

No, now he was _pissed._ Sanji was convinced he was living out of sheer spite at this point. The bastard wanted him dead? Well, he’d just have to live as long as humanly possible.

Brother’s wanted to kill him? Screw them, he’d survive every single encounter, curling into a ball if need be or stuffing books in his shirt to muffle the kicks. They were too dumb to notice anyways.

Reiju wanted to pretend to help him? He’d take a lesson from his ‘beloved’ sister and pretend too. Pretend she didn’t exist. One of his few sources of social interaction be damned. The guards made for far better company in comparison, even if they only occasionally grunted and brought him whatever object he’d requested.

He’d been down here long enough to have read every single book in the Kingdom from cover to cover, eyes having adjusted to the gloom long ago, so when the bastard finally showed up with an offer, he wasn’t complaining.

Sanji was to obey every single command, to carry out any mission given, and in return, he’d be let out. Oh, and of course, Sanji was never, under any circumstance, to identify as his offspring. Sanji did his best to relay his hatred for the bastard with his glare alone while he acted like the tiny kernel of hope he’d had left hadn't been mercilessly stomped on.

He’d accepted, however. Anything had to be better than this hellhole, plus, the mask he’d never quite been able to adjust to was finally pried off. It was weird at first, his head so _freakishly light,_ he’d actually had trouble walking for awhile, something his brothers made sure to point out just to be pricks. They’d also made sure to harass him on account of how pale he was and how his eyes still couldn’t handle prolonged exposure to light. When the insults got too grating, Sanji had simply stared at the scar stretching from Yonji’s cheekbone to his jaw, reminding himself of when he’d landed that blow a year back using a steak knife he’d stashed in his sleeve. Fucker had teared up and everything, it had been great. He’d felt a little guilty at first, but any remorse he’d had was completely and irreversibly snuffed out when the bastard ordered all his cooking utensils to be tossed out. He didn’t regret it now, especially whenever he caught Yonji glowering at him darkly.

The weeks he’d remained in Germa were spent in the hospital with a handful of nurses he was certain would be hushed after his departure. A part of him yearned to warn them, to try and protect them, but the stronger one, the one that screamed ‘don’t get thrown back in there’ kept him silent. Besides, he doubted the bastard would have them killed or anything. That would be too much, even for him. The nurses were nice, after all. One even had the heart to storm out of the room in tears after seeing the scars on his back, some jagged, some spelling words, his favorite being the ‘dud’ over his right shoulder blade.

He’d found her reaction extremely endearing, especially since she was adorable to boot. Because of that, he was almost disappointed his stay wasn’t long. It had been a given, really. After all, he’d taken good care of himself over the years, exercising, cooking meals to make up for whatever nutrition he wasn’t getting naturally down there (until the bastard took his tools); he wouldn’t even have to stay if not for the injuries that had accumulated over time.

They kept him until every single fracture had healed, no matter how small. May have been longer if the bastard himself hadn’t deened to visit, giving Sanji a stack of papers, a tiny Den Den Mushi, and a suicide mission. He’d expected nothing less.

 

(6)

 

Sanji couldn’t get out of Germa fast enough. As he watched that hell vanish on the horizon, he kept his fingers locked around his hood, refusing to let a breeze blow it off or something. Didn’t want to risk being found out and thrown in that cell again. That’d been one of the ‘conditions’ his freedom had come with. Don’t be recognized.

He’d wanted to laugh. If the bastard had his way, Sanji would be dead within the week, and he _still_ refused to acknowledge his existence in any way before then. He shouldn’t be surprised.

Drawing in the air, damp, salty, he finally backed away from the railing, eyeing the Germa 66 smeared across the sails like a bloodstain. Really, he couldn’t wait to be dumped on some random island. If he had his way, he’d never have to ride on one of these tasteless ships again.

 

(7)

 

They ended up ditching him in Water Seven. He had no idea when the Vinsmokes crossed the Red Line, let alone how long they’d been there, but no matter. He wasted no time, purchasing a mask off a street vendor with the small sum of Berry the bastard had so graciously bestowed him with, along with a cloak and something to eat. Spent the rest of the afternoon sightseeing. The women were gorgeous, the fountain-like structure was more amazing in person than it’d been in that book, and the Yagara were like nothing he’d ever seen before. He made sure to give his a dango as thanks.

All in all, it was a nice town, if he ignored the weird streaker. Then again, considering he only had that hell and years of darkness to compare it to, anywhere would seem nice. The desert would seem nice.

Plus, no one suspected an eleven-year-old to be planning a slaughter and had been accommodating enough to freak him out. The hotel clerk had even handed him his room key rather than throwing it at him. What was up with that?

After he was securely locked in his room, he flipped through the file once more. Something about off’ing an opposing army that’d been gaining decent standing over the years. An entire army. By himself. He knew the bastard wanted him dead but wasn’t that a bit overkill?

Releasing a puff of air, he set the file down and stared out the window. Screw it. He’d think of something.

 

(8)

 

He’d left soon after, and by the time he’d arrived at the shores of New Plaza, he was absolutely certain he was good as dead. He entertained the idea of just running, of ditching his Den Den Mushi along with the stupid file and getting a job at a restaurant or something. But, if he did that, the bastard would _win,_ damn it. Sanji wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He wouldn’t run, nor would he die.

He would do this.

 

(9)

 

He’d ended up doing as follows: piss off another bastard and have them do his dirty work. As he’d soon discovered, the island possessed not one militia, but two. The opposing forces had been in somewhat of a cold war for longer than Sanji had been imprisoned, so it was easy to set them off. Fire off a couple shots, kill some dumbass, leave enough incriminating evidence behind, then flee the island when the sound of explosions and gunfire started. The fuckers had wiped each other out before the week was over, though he’d made a special trip back to make absolutely certain that was the case.

Turned out there was a survivor. A girl around his age. After holding her at gunpoint for a solid three minutes, he’d opted to let her leave. Not like she could cause much trouble anyways, not on her own like this.

She’d vowed to kill him one day. He’d grinned and pretended not to cringe inside. It wasn’t a big deal, right? They were all gonna die at one point or the other regardless, all he’d done was speed it up a bit. Yeah. Not a big deal.

Despite that, he jerked awake in a cold sweat that night. And the night after.

 

(10)

 

Years went by like that. He’d finish a job that by all means should’ve killed him, only to have another thrust onto him. He’d accept it each time without fail. In his mind, it was a challenge, an order to die, and honestly, after everything he’d been through, disobeying and angering the bastard was like a drug to him. He got addicted to it fast, never surrendering no matter how many close calls came, no matter how many scars were added to the collection. No matter how many times he’d stare longingly into a restaurant. No matter how many times he thought of All Blue.

As always when that paradise came up, he told himself it was a myth. Pretended he hadn’t been keeping a half-hearted eye out for it all this time. Just a myth and people who died chasing myths were foolish.

He pondered this over a glass of rum, listening absently to the stories of some geezer in a bar that was closing down. Apparently, this had been the Pirate Kings favorite place to unwind before he conquered the Grand Line and basically flipped the entire world on its collective ass.

“I’m going to the Grand Line,” The straw-hatted kid said, tone serious despite his feet kicking back and forth in front of him.

He’d been in here when Sanji arrived and had yet to show any signs of leaving, more interested in the stories. Sanji hadn’t paid him much attention, calmly waiting for his turn with the barkeep. He’d learned years ago the best way to gather information was to start in places like this. Especially when that information involved the less... pleasant parts of a town.

“He was cool, huh?” He went on, “Gold Roger.”

Sanji blinked, craning his neck to watch the kid over his shoulder. He’d lowered his head, the brim of his hat overshadowing his face until only his smirk was visible. “Pirate’s should try to be like him. That’s why I went out to sea... to go to the Grand Line and find One Piece.” A pause, then he raised his chin, showing an expression filled with such unwavering confidence, Sanji merely stared. “I’m gonna be the Pirate King!”

“Wha—?” Sanji had spluttered before he could stop himself, and he wasn’t alone either, given the shell-shocked look on the barkeep’s face.

“That’s a crazy thing to say!” The barkeep choked out, “How could you say that here in this place?”

“What?” The kid actually had the gall to sound _puzzled,_ “But I’m just telling the truth.”

Again, Sanji couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Kid wasn’t boasting, wasn’t trying to prove himself or impress them—he truly believed this load of crap. What in the hell?

The barkeep apparently took something Sanji hadn’t from those words, bursting into a gargled fit of laughter. “Kid, after having a customer like you, I feel like closing the shop a little later.”

He went on to spew some other crap about toasting, pouring them both cups of milk.

“Toast with me, to the eternal Pirate King.”

“To the eternal Pirate King!”

After they’d finished _that_ particular.... weird whatever that’d been, Sanji watched the kid skip out of the bar, trying to ignore the chord he’d struck. Sanji had given up on chasing dreams a long time ago, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to change his mind because of some naive moron. Still, the kid hadn’t seemed naive. There’d been comprehension in those eyes.

Sanji shook the thought off just as fast. He’d imagined it. That was all.

“So,” The barkeep said, voice low, dangerous. “What does your sort want here, Vinsmoke?”

Sanji’s thumb twitched against his cup. “Nothing much, just seeing the sights.”

The barkeep’s gaze was unrelenting.

See? Old bastard knew all sorts of shit.

“I hear the Revolutionary Army has been busy these days.”

The geezer wasn’t much of a liar, apparently, skin losing several shades of color. “What do you know about that, upstart?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” He admitted, shuffling through his pocket until he’d retrieved a cigarette. He let the barkeep stew as he lit it, going as far as to blow out a slow breath of smoke. “I hear the Revolutionary leader himself is in town today.”

If the man had seemed nervous before, now he looked on the brink of a heart attack. “Get out.”

“So it’s true then? You wouldn’t happen to know—”

_“Out!!”_

The geezer slammed his palms against the bar, causing the ice cubes in his glass to clink together. Sanji gave him a thoroughly unimpressed stare as the geezer proceeded to grab his drink and dump it.

“Oi, I paid for that you know.”

The barkeep opened his mouth, likely to tell him off, when the tarp marking the doorway was shoved open. Judging by the signature cigars clenched between the visitors teeth, must’ve been Smoker, the marine in charge of this area.

“So it’s you, huh?” The barkeep spat without an ounce of care.

Sanji respected that.

“The usual greeting, huh?” Smoker said, calm gaze shifting to Sanji. “Am I interrupting something?”

Sanji paused a beat, then released a sigh, sliding out of the barstool and making his way to the exit. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

No use sticking around with that massive migraine in the room. He’d gotten what he’d wanted anyways. Confirmation. Rumors had been correct, Monkey D. Dragon was in town. Now, Sanji just had to figure out how to kill him.

 

(11)

 

It’d started several months back with an actual visit from Ichiji. First time he’d seen any of his brothers since leaving seven years ago, and it’d still been too soon. They’d grabbed a drink at a local pub while Sanji pretended _not_ to be losing his shit inside, and Ichiji had filled him in. Apparently, the bastard had realized his new tactic at killing Sanji wasn’t going to work either. So, he’d upped the ante, giving him the mother of suicide missions. Kill the most wanted man alive, his second-in-command, and wipe the army off the faces of the planet. The bastard apparently didn’t like the ‘ripples’ Dragon was causing, nor the competition. Damn warmonger.

Ichiji had gauged his reaction with a smirk that could’ve meant literally anything, then he’d downed the rest of his whiskey and slid to his feet.

_‘Guess this is the last time we’ll be speaking, huh, Sanji? Can’t say I care.’_

Fucker. Looked like a total tool with those sunglasses on too.

He’d stewed in silent misery the rest of the night, downing every single mug the bartender had smacked in front of him until he’d set some kind of record and been given the rest for free alongside the entire bar. Sanji earnestly hadn’t given a shit at that point.

As the sounds of partying filled his ears, the idea of running danced through his mind, changing his name, buying a restaurant somewhere in the.... East Blue? West Blue? Somewhere not cold.

He’d do his mother proud by mastering the culinary arts, would fall in love by the age of twenty-two and at that part, his daydream would shift into a sappy fairytale romance where the prince saved the princess, and they lived happily-ever-after.

The thoughts were fleeting as tiny candies, however. Sweet on the tongue for a good minute or so, but never lasting long, leaving him more aware of the bitter taste in his mouth and the empty pit in his stomach.

Dreams weren’t the only thing Sanji had given up on.

Freedom was something he’d lost sight of after a year in that cell.

 

(12)

 

In Loguetown, Sanji moved through the streets like a cat on the hunt, steps silent, shoulders tensed and ready to strike at any second. He wasn’t going to survive this one, he knew. It didn’t matter. If he gave up, he’d _lose,_ and Sanji had been playing the game so long, the thought of that was unbearable. He would die, but he would take Dragon down with him. Then the bastard would have to admit Sanji wasn’t a dud. He was worth something, dammit!

Yet, his feet slowed at the docks, eyes flittering to the sail of a pirate ship, one marked with a skull and bones wearing a straw hat. Reminded him of earlier, of the strange kid announcing his dream with such boldness, for a second, Sanji had actually believed he could do it. That years from now, he’d be reading about a straw-hatted kid taking the Grand Line by storm and finding One Piece.

Shaking the thought off, he continued walking.

 

(13)

 

When he finally found Dragon, the guy was in the middle of a fight of his own, hand clutching the end of a jutte belonging to none other than Smoker. How in the hell had _that_ happened? He was so frazzled by it, he didn’t notice the figure beneath the Marine, nor the wind gaining speed, tugging at his hair and sending his tie into a frenzy. Swallowing the lump rising in his throat, he reached for the knife holstered inside his tux, forcing a foot to edge him away from the safety of a wall. He would do this. Even the legendary Dragon couldn’t survive a knife to the head, and just in case, Sanji had coated this particular one with a poison taken from the skin of a Stonefish. After being injected, only Sanji’s ‘beloved’ sister would be capable of saving Dragon.

The Revolutionary would have enough time to send Sanji to the afterlife before he followed, but as long as his task was somewhat complete, Sanji didn’t mind.

With a nod, he quickened his stride, confidence building. He wouldn’t die in vai—

His brain abruptly shut off as an impossibly powerful gust of wind smacked into him, sending him careening through the air as though he’d been caught in an underwater current. His mind was a jumble of ‘what the hells’ and ‘holy shits’ for a good minute until he faceplanted into a concrete surface, ears ringing painfully. He barely had enough time to stammer out a combination of his two thoughts before an arm slammed across his back (he was pretty sure it was an arm) and he was, once more, sent flying.

He blacked out.

When he came too, it was to the feel of rain pelting his face, panicked voices shouting over a roaring wind, and a severe ache all over. Shoving himself upright, he raised a hand to his pounding nose, palm returning dotted with blood. Shit. Hoped it wasn’t broken.

For a brief second, he found himself actually thankful for the rain since it hid the fact his eyes were watering. Getting hit in the nose, along with being kicked in the groin was a pain impossible to adjust to no matter how strong-willed the person. Fuck.

“Get the sails ready,” Someone—a woman from the sound of it—shouted, “Veer to the left—NO!!” Her angry yell morphed into a petrified shriek fast enough to give him whiplash, “Why would you move us _towards_ the wave, are you completely braindead!!?”

On cue, said wave smashed into the side of the ship, sending Sanji rolling until he’d collided with the railing, soaked, and more than a little startled.

“Ack!! I think I’ve caught a this-is-too-scary-I-need-to-lay-down disease!!”

An obnoxious laugh, “You’re so funny Usopp!!”

“Shut up Luffy!! And quit standing around talking—the both of you—before I boot you off the ship, damn it!!”

“Aye!!” The two guys yelped in sync, followed by a patter of footsteps.

Sanji had no idea what the hell was happening, but unless he wanted to be shipwrecked, he’d better start helping. Lunging forward, he grabbed the rope connected to the sail and tugged for all he was worth.

“Move it starboard!!”

“Got it!”

“There’s a whirlpool forming at six o’ clock!!”

“Oh shi—!!”

“Shit, we’re taking on water, someone grab a bucket, damn it!!”

“Yes, ma’am!!”

“Another wave incoming!”

By the time the weather had settled down, they all lay collapsed on the deck, drenched and exhausted. Sanji had never been this worn out before, and that said a lot considering he spent most of his time wading through wars. The hell had just happened?

When he’d finally gathered enough of his bearings to sit up and light a cigarette, he was greeted with a sight that almost had him crashing on his face again. It was that kid! The one from the bar!!

He was standing several feet away, arms crossed and head thrown back in laughter. Two men were on either side of him, a green-haired muscle-head and some scrawny guy who looked like a liar.

He lost interest monumentally fast, however, when he laid eyes on the most gorgeous woman he’d seen in his entire life. Short ginger hair, curvy sides, and a beautiful smile—okay, maybe she was glaring like she wanted to rip someone’s head off, but no matter. A queen, a fairy.

As she proceeded to make strangling motions at the straw-hatted kid, Sanji pushed himself to his feet, dusted off his pants, then moved to her, clasping her hands in his own.

“Oh, my love, it must be fate that I’ve met you today in my darkest hour! If only destiny weren’t so cruel, I’d be content to run away with you anywhere you may wish!”

Deafening silence.

Then in sync, everyone minus him yelled, “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!!?”

“Ah. Shit.”

Reluctantly, Sanji released the babe’s silky hands and stepped away. “I’m Sanji, can’t say I’m as happy to meet you shitheads.”

“H-Hey, you’re not with those guys that tried to burn the Merry earlier are you!?” The liar-guy yelled while the straw-hatted kid recoiled, jaw dropping.

“What!!? Someone tried to burn Merry!?”

Burn the Merry? The hell was he on about?

A blade was shoved not so politely against his throat, the musclehead scowling at him darkly, “Well? You better get to talking curly-brow. Before my blade slips.”

Curly-brow? Eye twitching in annoyance, Sanji looked at the sword, then at the sail, where low and behold, the Jolly Roger he’d seen earlier bore down on them. Just great. As if his day couldn’t get any shittier.

“No clue,” He answered, blowing a mouthful of smoke into musclehead’s face.

The spluttering coughs musclehead gave, along with the murderous tick that followed brought a rare grin to Sanji’s face. Take that, bastard.

“I have no interest in burning your shitty ship.”

“‘S-Shitty!?’” The liar-guy echoed fearful gaze making room for anger. “Hey, the Merry isn’t shitty, you bastard, take that back!!”

Sanji glared at him, and liar-guy dove behind the straw-hat kid.

“As for who I am, we met earlier, didn’t we?” At the kid’s baffled frown, he added, “In that bar.”

A blink, two, then the kid tipped his head to the side, “Don’t remember.”

“You already forgot!?” Sanji snapped before he could stop himself. Then, with a drag from his cigarette to compose himself, he said, “As for why I’m here, your guess is as good as mine. One second I was—” About to kill the most dangerous man alive and in turn, die as well, “—walking through town, the next, I was hit by some gust of wind.” A pause. “Then something else. Felt like an arm.”

To his surprise, the glares that’d been searing into him moments ago were redirected to that kid. The kid actually started laughing sheepishly—the hell?

“Luffy,” The love of his life spoke, tone icy cold, “Explain.”

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t notice!”

“Wait,” Sanji cut in, mind working a hundred miles-per-hour, “It was _your_ shitty arm that hit me!!?”

A snort and the musclehead finally sheathed his sword. “Just figuring that out?”

“What!?” His glare shifted to musclehead for a fraction of a second before refocusing on the kid at full blast. “How the hell is that possible!?”

Kid stared, grinned, then stretched his cheek all the way to his shoulder. “I ate the gum-gum fruit, so I’m a rubber man now!”

Sanji’s mouth fell open, cigarette bouncing off his left shoe then rolling across the deck. “‘A rubber man?’”

Immediately, the assassin in him crossed out guns and blunt force attacks as a method for killing him. Knives were more Sanji’s style anyways.

“Hey, hey, put that out, are you trying to start a fire!!?” The liar yelled at him.

Mechanically, Sanji collected his cigarette and flicked it overboard. “Right. Sorry.”

“Guess we're stuck with you for the time being.” The love of his life sighed.

Musclehead rolled his eyes, “I say we throw him overboard and let him swim back.”

“You—” Sanji started, but his love beat him to it, leaving a sizable lump on musclehead’s skull.

“Not happening!”

Sanji gaped dumbly. She stood up for him? Did that mean... No, it couldn’t possibly.. Or maybe.... She returned his feelings, after all!?

While Sanji dissolved into a fit of hearts, his love continued to scan the sky with an adorable frown.

“Hey, the weather’s gotten pretty nice guys!” The liar remarked brightly, and while Sanji was inclined to agree, the nagging sense he was forgetting something surfaced.

“Look! It’s not even raining over there at all!”

Oh.

 _Well,_ Sanji thought. _Shit._

 

(14)

 

This arrangement wasn’t too shabby, he decided. The liar—who he now knew as Usopp—was pretty okay after getting to know him, and Nami was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, so there was that. Though he was convinced Luffy was a suicidal moron and earnestly surprised he was this crew’s captain, he could look passed it for the moment. Only problem was Zoro, who ‘just happened’ to end up in every single room Sanji went into. Talk about annoying. If Sanji had wanted to kill them, he’d have done it already, or, at least, set someone else up to do it. He rarely worked in a direct fashion if it could be avoided.

After missing his mark at Loguetown, he had no idea where the Revolutionary was headed next, and honestly, it’d been a miracle he’d discovered the man’s whereabouts to begin with. That left him at a crossroad.

Seeing as this crew had no intentions to make any pit stops for him, he could sail over Reverse mountain then hitch another ride back and investigate Loguetown for any information left behind. Or, seeing as Dragon most likely intended to enter the Grand Line anyways, he could stick around with these moron’s until the next town and see where to go from there. He was leaning towards the latter. It would be the smartest option. Less hectic, as well.

Not that the view wasn’t worth the trip. He smiled down at the ocean stretching for miles and miles beneath the mountain. A pale gray, almost hidden behind the clouds surrounding them like a veil of mist. The All Blue was probably somewhere out there. His smile vanished. No, it wasn’t. All blue was a myth. Simple.

Even if it wasn’t...

The ship shot forward with the speed of a cannonball, and Sanji’s thoughts ended there.

 

(15)

 

Sanji would never admit this to anyone in any way, but he actually related to a whale. Waiting years and years for someone who would never come, getting angry when he realized they never would, lashing out at everything because it was the only thing he _could_ do, the only thing he’d _had._

Sanji understood so well it hurt.

Instead of speak up, he kept his gaze trained on the ground and pretended not to smile after Luffy painted his Jolly Roger on the whale’s forehead, promising to one day return.

 

(16)

 

Sanji liked Luffy. Which surprised him, because he rarely warmed up to anyone. Not like this. Luffy’s presence was like a patch of sunlight, didn’t really notice it at first, but it was warm and comforting all the same. Kid couldn’t lie worth a damn, couldn’t sit still to save his life, and grinned so broadly, and stupidly Sanji found himself smiling back.

It was dumb. It was safe. He’d forgotten what that felt like.

So, when Luffy’s stomach released a rather loud grumble and he whined about food, Sanji offered to cook without thinking. He received a myriad of surprised looks for this.

“You can.... Cook?” Usopp asked, like the idea of Sanji cooking broke some law of nature.

“Yeah,” Sanji replied, not sparing him a glance.

“Well... I don’t see any problem with it,” Nami said, more tentative. “The Galley doesn’t have much to work with at the moment, but there’s enough for simple dishes.” The corners of her mouth tipped upwards and she held up a hand, index and thumb pressed together in a universal signal. “I can help, of course, but it’ll come at the small fee of three hundred Berry!”

“Nah, I don’t need help,” Sanji answered, already heading for the Galley, “Lunch should be ready in less than an hour.”

Of course, his shadow joined shortly after, perching in a chair at the dining table and falling asleep not a minute later. Sanji didn’t understand that dumbass. Why was he trying to keep an eye on him if he couldn’t stay awake for more than five-second intervals?

Rolling his eyes, he busied himself at the stove, humming as he diced the onions, then scraped them into the pot of boiling water. Several fizzles followed, along with plumes of smoke, and tension he hadn’t realized was there dissipated. He’d always felt more relaxed while cooking.

As he’d said, dinner was done forty minutes later. Nothing fancy, just a savory broth, meatloaf, and a small salad on the side. Whoever stocked up on rations clearly knew little about cooking, given everything in storage was either meats or vegetables. No spices, no herbs, and hardly any fruit. He was offended. Before he left, he was going to make sure these morons had the _proper_ essentials for cooking. His pride as a chef would allow nothing less.

He’d brought the meal outside, to where the old man Crocus was explaining how magnetic fields functioned in the Grand Line, while Nami nodded attentively and the others stared dumbly. Zoro sauntered out behind him, carrying two plates—because if the bastard was going to stalk him, he was going to help out, dammit—and grinned proudly at his set table.

Luffy and Usopp were drooling rivers by the time he’d finished, and before he even had a chance to back away, they were digging in like a bunch of animals. He’d have to beat some table manners into them by the next town.

Nami was slower, prodding the meatloaf a bit suspiciously before squinting, shrugging, and taking a bite. A heartbeat passed, two, three, she raised a napkin to wipe off the sauce from her mouth. He swallowed nervously.

“It’s delicious.” She decided with a small grin that made his heart skip several beats.

“I can die happy!!” He shouted off into the distance as a wave crashed against the cliff-face.

“Say,” Luffy piped up around a mouthful of food. “Are you a cook?”

Blinking, he glanced at the kid over his shoulder, “Kind of.” Was more a hobby than a living.

Luffy grinned, that stupidly wide grin that both flooded him with warmth and made him want to knock him upside the head. “Wanna join my crew?”

The reactions were instantaneous.

Zoro choked, grasping feebly for his throat and hunching over, Usopp spat out his food (something Sanji later throttled him for), Nami nearly fell over, a startled scream escaping, while Luffy continued to stare at him, either unbothered or denser than Sanji had suspected.

Join his crew, huh? The past few hours hadn’t been bad, actually, they’d been the best he’d had in awhile. Maybe the best he’d ever had. Considering what a shitstorm his life had been, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Images flowed through his mind, the bastard’s cold glare, his brother’s mocking sneers, memories of pain and darkness. Reflexively, his hand moved to his right elbow, the one that still didn’t quite move the same, a familiar rage settling in.

“Can’t. Already taken. Sorry.”

“Awww!” He whined, “You should join anyways!”

“Can’t,” Sanji repeated, tone clipped. Leaving no room for argument, he returned his glare to the cliff, ignoring the weird look Nami was giving him and lighting a cigarette. As he watched Laboon shoot a geyser of water into the air, he wondered what whale soup would taste like.

 

(17)

 

“C’mon, just join already!”

“No.”

 

(18)

 

“What, you mean your eyebrows _naturally_ look like that!?”

Sanji stared expressionlessly at his nose until the kid slumped over in defeat.

“....Point.”

“Meh. I’ve seen weirder than your freaky eyebrows, shit-cook.”

“Shut up!!”

 

(19)

 

“What the—are those my clothes!!?”

Sanji gave the tasteless shirt and baggy pants he had on an unimpressed once over before returning his eyes to the marimo. “Didn’t have anything else, and there’s no way in hell I’m wearing overalls.”

“Take it off. _Now.”_

Despite the murderous intent etched into the man’s features, Sanji snorted and jabbed a thumb at himself. “As flattered as I am, Marimo, I’m a man that was born only to love the ladies!”

He dodged the sword flying for his head and retaliated with a kick.

 

(20)

 

“Plea—”

“For the hundredth time, I am not joining your crew.”

“...I refuse your refusal.”

 

(21)

 

“You mean, you’ve _been_ to the Grand Line before!!?”

Sanji blinked owlishly at the trio, “Yeah? Did I forget to mention that? I was only in the East Blue for a short while.”

“That’s so cool!” Luffy exclaimed with shining eyes, while Nami yelled at him for not warning them of the dangers and Usopp rambled about what an expert explorer ‘Captain Usopp’ was and how he’d already ventured into every sea known to man, even seas that were uncharted.

Sanji laughed.

 

(22)

 

“There’s snow everywhere! If only a valiant knight could help clear off the deck...”

“I’ll do it!!”

 

(23)

 

The next town just had to be a nest of bounty hunters, didn’t it? Just his fucking luck. Not to mention the sad doe eyes he was getting from the younger members of the crew. He really wanted to leave. Soon as possible.

His ‘like’ for Luffy had not only spread to the rest of the crew but was beginning to turn into something he wasn’t comfortable with, on the terms it was both unfamiliar and inconvenient. He took a step away from the ship, ready to shove his way through the crowd of lying crooks and—holy shit that girl was gorgeous!! No! Knock it off, she was tricking him!! Mini-skirt! _No,_ stay strong!

Giving his head a fierce shake, he went to take another step, but two iron grips on either wrist stopped him. Resisting the instincts long since beaten into him screaming ‘fight’, he looked over his shoulder at Luffy and Usopp who were staring at him like they were a word away from bursting into hysterical sobbing.

Sanji’s eye twitched. The heck had he done to warrant this kind of reaction? That aside, he sighed, and muttered, “Calm down, I’m not leaving just yet.”

 _Dumbasses,_ he added silently.

“Really!?” Luffy exclaimed, sounding like he was going to cry anyways.

“You’re not!!?” Usopp followed suit, every bit as choked up.

The hell!? “No,” Sanji bit out, trying his best to hide his confusion behind practicality. “Can’t say I’m a fan of this place.”

At that, the two actually paused and shot him puzzled frowns.

“Why not? Everyone’s really nice!”

“Yeah! They’re even throwing us a party!”

“Not sure,” He lied, well-aware there were several pairs of attentive ears nearby. “Just not my...” He coughed into his fist. “Kinda place.... I guess. Probably.”

That was terrible.

“Well,” Luffy said, “Okay.”

“That’s fair,” Usopp agreed with a nod.

What!? It worked!? Releasing a puff of smoke to compose himself, he strode forward, Luffy and Usopp at either side. Guess he was getting better at lying.

 

(24)

 

Sanji lay on the cold floor, pretending to be asleep as screams and explosions filled the air. Sounded like marimo had everything under control. No sense in getting involved. Wasn’t his place anyways.

 

(25)

 

Turned out, the lovely Miss Wednesday was Princess Vivi of Alabasta. Apparently, she’d infiltrated Baroque Works for the good of her people or something or other; he hadn’t really been listening, more interested in how great she looked with her hair down. That’s why, when Usopp had brought it up earlier, raving about how brave she was, and how ‘Captain Usopp’ would definitely assure she returned home safely, he’d nearly had a heart attack. She was the Princess of _Alabasta._ This was just his shitty luck.

He still remembered a job he’d taken from an ‘independent contractor’ when he was sixteen and in desperate need of Berry. Not like the bastard was paying him for his services, he just gave him missions via the transponder he’d been sent away with, and on the rarest of occasions, a file. Sanji had learned real quick if he was going to survive, he had to work for it, taking on part-time jobs and entering contests, preferably all cooking-related. Sometimes, however, that hadn’t been enough.

When he was approached by a member of a ‘secret organization’ offering him an amount of Berry that would last for _months,_ he couldn’t refuse. Hunger had a funny way of throwing all morals out the window.

The assignment was to smuggle several bags of dance powder into the royal palace of Alabasta without being spotted, which was a fairly simple task considering he’d spent most his childhood slipping out of a castle to visit his mother. Though, Germa’s security was heaps and bounds above Alabasta’s. He’d basically waltzed in and out in the span of an hour, unscratched and much, much richer.

Now, seeing the repercussions of what he’d done first-hand, he felt his heart squeeze. Even if he hadn’t taken the job, someone else would’ve done it, but still, this was partly his fault. Vivi was adorable, and he kinda, sorta, maybe liked her on a personal level as well. Just a bit.

Plus, Luffy and the others considered her a friend. If they found out...

Didn’t matter. Sanji would bail in Alabasta.

 

(26)

 

“You mean, you’re not the cook on this ship?” Vivi asked, shooting him a surprised look over the newspaper she’d been scanning.

“No,” He said as he flipped a hamburger patty, “I’m just hitching a ride.”

She huffed out a laugh, “Kinda like me then.”

His lips twitched into a frown, “Yeah. Kinda.”

He worked in silence a bit longer, content to let Vivi read in peace. He’d basically ruined her life and screwed her father over, he could give her that much.

“So, Vivi,” Nami said, “What’s the king like?”

“Huh? My father?” She almost sounded startled, “Well, he’s... how do I put it? He’s very kind,”

Not something Sanji typically associated with a father.

“Though he can be pretty overprotective at times.”

Must be nice.

“It’s pretty silly, actually, one time he even followed me around through the city behind a pile of bushes. _Bushes!_ We live in a desert country!” She giggled, and Nami joined in after a moment.

“And, lastly,” She went on, resting her chin in an open palm. “He’s a good king.”

The wind was knocked from his lungs like he’d been punched. A good, peaceful king. In a good, peaceful kingdom. With a good, peaceful princess. And he’d helped ruin it. That settled it.

 

(27)

 

“Oi, Luffy,”

“Hm?”

“I wanna stick around until we finish helping Vivi. Sound good, or bad?”

A pause, then a wide grin, “Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is spaced out a bit differently than usual, but it was easier to write this way. Anyways, I don't doubt for a second Judge would act like this, so far he's been nothing but pig-headed in his rejection of Sanji. That's why I figure he'd probably chock up all of Sanji's victories to luck (which shows how little he knows Sanji because that boy's luck rivals Kaneki Ken's) and still try to find ways to get rid of him. I don't think he'll ever be able to see passed the fact Sanji is human, and knowing Sanji, since Judge has nothing to flaunt over his head in this fic, he'd shove back every chance he got
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! This ended up way longer than I'd expected.


	2. Bad Luck, A Doctor, and The Kindgom of Alabasta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahh, this is definitely gonna need another chapter to wrap up, I got a bit carried away (〃∀〃)ゞ

(28)

 

Little Garden was a mistake. If Sanji was sure of anything, it was that. They should’ve listened to Nico Robin and avoided the place—Sanji had certainly wanted to; he’d heard about this island, hardly anyone survived it. But, of course, Luffy had broken the eternal Log Pose like a jackass.

At this point, he was completely convinced Luffy had a deathwish, and being on his crew meant following him anywhere, including hell after they all ended up butchered on some foreign island in the name of ‘adventure.’ Great. He couldn’t wait to get away from these morons.

With a shrill squawk, a pterodactyl swooped into the treeline, sending several leaves the size of his head raining down on him, a soggy one smacking into his face and sticking. As he pried it off, he reiterated: he didn’t just want to get away from them, he couldn’t get away fast enough.

Muttering a string of curses beneath his breath, he shifted his focus to the task at hand, scanning the ferns and treetops for any signs of movement. That algae-for-brains dumbass actually thought he was a better hunter, and Sanji was not going to let that fly.

 

(29)

 

In the end, Sanji wound up with a cup of tea, a pissed off Shichibukai, two dead bodies, and an eternal pose to Alabasta. Despite having done some of the man’s dirty work awhile back, Sanji had never actually spoken with him, let alone learned his identity. He’d found out from Nami when she’d stormed into the Galley, ranting, and raving while he’d prepared dinner.

That afternoon, he’d reached a few conclusions. One being, Nami was adorable when she was flustered, the second being, Vivi was never, and he meant absolutely _never_ to be trusted with confidential information, and the third being, this whole situation had gotten lightyears more complicated. Sanji had done a lot of things that were relatively suicide over the years, but there were three lines he’d never cross: Yonko, Shichibukai, and the world government. Doing even one of those things was basically asking for it.

If Nami had told him this before he’d talked to Luffy, he would’ve hightailed it. It’d be messed up, especially after the role he’d played in causing this mess, but he’d done worse. Way worse.

Maybe he could leave anyways. Just vanish in Alabasta. They’d forget him in a week or two, he was sure. Then again, on the off chance they didn’t forget because they were fucking weird like that, he’d have to deal with those disappointed doe eyes if he ended up running into Luffy or Usopp again. The thought made him cringe. Given his track record, that’d be exactly what would happen, better yet, they’d probably stumble on him doing something fucked up like accidentally smacking a brat’s ice cream out of their hands.

He had no choice. He’d have to stick around until this was resolved, _then_ hightail it. Damn it. He needed to think of some way to avoid being seen while still helping Vivi. If he stu—wait, was that Nami _shirtless!?_

Sanji wasted no time beelining in that direction, discovering two giants (what the hell), a bunch of weird white shit (also, what the hell), everyone looking like they’d had the fight of their lives, and alas, a shirtless Nami. After he’d gotten over that fact, he’d noticed she was an _injured_ shirtless Nami. Vivi was banged up too.

A pause while he contemplated the knives holstered along the inside of his tux, took the weight into account, figured if she could punch Luffy clear off the Merry she’d be fine, then had shrugged it off and draped it over her shoulders.

“Ah! Thanks.” She’d said, round eyes snapping to him.

He’d grinned. Nami was cute even when surprised! He was beginning to think she was adorable no matter what she did.

The others had caught him up to speed, and when they’d started spewing some weird crap about staying on the island, he’d pulled out the eternal pose he’d found. Their reactions were.... something. Even Zoro’s jaw had nearly hit the ground.

Then, Luffy had jumped a full ten feet into the air, screaming, “AN ETERNAL POSE!!”

Usopp, as always, wasn’t far behind, “WE’RE SAVED!!”

“LET’S HAVE A RICECRACKER PARTY!!”

“RICECRACKER PARTY!!”

Sanji was completely and irreversibly at a loss. The hell were they so happy about? Something he’d done? What was up with that?

He was so stumped by their reactions, he didn't notice the blur of color racing for him until it had slammed into his chest. Just like that, his confusion faded in place of shock, muscles locking up as fingers dug into his back, dredging up memories of knives and strangled screams.

"Um... Mister Cook?"

Blinking, he forced his chin up, seeing Vivi first, sitting on her haunches with an expression so horribly startled he actually winced, then the others, who'd stopped celebrating to stare at them.

He fumbled for something to say. Vivi had hugged him, Vivi who he thought was beautiful, wonderful, practically angelic, and he'd fucking _flinched._ Fuck.

“I-I’m so sorry!” She started, arms jerking to her chest, “I just—I was so relieved I didn’t think and... oh my god, you’re not hurt are you!?”

It took his mind a little longer than usual to work that sentence out. “..Huh?”

“Your back!!” She insisted, “Did you get hurt!? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—”

Seeing an out, Sanji’s palms shot up, a placating gesture he’d seen many times, “Don’t be, it’s just a scratch!”

“So you _are hurt!?_ Oh no, I’m so sorry, should I—!?”

“Vivi’s worried about me!?” He asked, clasping his fingers that were still shaking damn it, and forcing a swoon. “Don’t tell me... You haven’t fallen for me, have you!?”

Vivi reeled back, though she didn’t look finished. He didn’t get what she was so worried about, but then again, Vivi was a kind girl, so perhaps the thought of causing anyone pain bothered her?

“Sanji,”

This time it was Luffy. Sanji’s gaze snapped to him. He’d picked up on his weakness, hadn’t he? Now he was gonna—

“Join my crew.”

“Wha—?” Of all the things he’d expected, it most certainly hadn’t been that.

He’d never be able to guess what Luffy was thinking, would he?

“Like I already said,” Sanji sighed, sad, tired, “I’m already taken.”

 

(30)

 

“He’s not gonna keep taking no as an answer, you know,” Nami said, smirking at him over clasped fingers.

His eyes strayed to hers, lingered for several beats, then drifted back to the meat he was in the process of chopping and storing.

“If you don’t plan on joining us, you better start running soon. Otherwise, he’ll follow you to the ends of the world to get you back.”

“I doubt he’ll take it that far,” Sanji murmured, forcing his knife through a particularly fatty piece.

“Did for me.”

He froze, craning his neck to peer over his shoulder at her. Her eyes had shifted to the side, admiring something only she could see. He got the feeling she was referring to more than just joining.

Lips quirking up, this time with sincerity, she pushed away from the table, moving to the door. “Your back isn’t really hurt, is it?”

He considered lying. If she’d seen through his first lie, however, he doubted she would fall for the second. “Not anymore.” He answered, not a lie but not an explanation either. He’d always been better at dodging questions anyways.

The door creaked open, a warm gust of air rustling his bangs.

“Oh, and by the way,” She hummed, “Zoro told me his catch was much bigger than yours.”

Sanji slammed his knife on the cutting board with such force, it actually embed itself in several inches. “That damn Marimo must’ve gotten wax in his eyes then, my catch was _much_ bigger than that tiny piss-poor excuse for a lizard he dragged in!”

A laugh, loud, vibrant, then the door closed, leaving him slightly shellshocked because holy shit he’d made Nami _laugh._ Taking a second to gather his bearings, he forced himself to continue working. Nothing was making sense lately.

 

(31)

 

Nami was sick, and Sanji was terrified. He paced back and forth outside her room, teeth digging into his nails, shit, he really needed to stop it was starting to hurt—but _Nami._ She was on her deathbed by the looks of it. He didn’t know much about Crocodile, though he’d heard rumors, some of which claiming the man had a thing for poison.

What if he’d had her poisoned somehow!? Sanji had done the same to lots of people, hell, planned on doing it to Dragon next time they met. Maybe Baroque Works had found out she was their navigator? Wasn’t there a saying about that? ‘If you want to shoot the king, first shoot his horse’? Crocodile wanted them dead, so maybe—?

“Sanji,” Vivi’s soft voice brought him back. She was smiling at him from the doorway, though it was a sad, strained thing. “If you keep pacing like that, you might actually wake her up.”

He’d been booted from the room for similar reasons.

He stopped, perhaps a bit too abruptly because she actually blinked and straightened. Drawing a shaky breath into his lungs, he whirled on his heel and moved a bit closer, though he refused to cross the five-foot-line he’d mentally drawn between him and the others hours ago. It could be a contact poison.

That’s what he would’ve done. Poison one and let them basically sentence their own friend’s to death when they tried to take care of them.

And they would, even if he warned them, they’d take care of Nami. Would try to save her. An image of the Strawhats laying around the Merry with heaving chests and flushed faces flittered through his mind, soon followed by them having withered into skeletons. He blinked it away a little too hard.

“Vivi,”

“Y-Yes Mister Cook?” She said, eyes going round.

“Are you sure about this?”

For a moment, she simply stared, gears visibly turning as she tried to decipher what he meant. Then, like that, her face fell.

“I—” Her voice cracked, and she paused to swallow. “I’ve made up my mind. It’s like I said, this crew is at it’s fastest with Nami, so really—”

“Vivi,”

She bit her lip, shrinking further into herself. A heartbeat passed, two, three, and she sucked in a sliver of air, “It’s selfish, I know. My kingdom, my _people_ are dying, and yet.. I...” Slowly, she released the breath, uncertainty fading alongside it. Squaring her shoulders, she met his gaze, and he decided she’d make a fearsome Queen in the future. “Mister Cook, I don’t want her to die. She’s my friend. If there’s anything I can do to help her, then I’ll do it.”

He wasn’t surprised by that answer, but what came next definitely caught him off guard.

“Don’t you feel the same?”

He flinched without meaning to.

Vivi had seen, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Shit.

“Nami is... everyone.. they’re not really...” He broke off, trying to think of something to say, some way to explain what he’d been thinking, what these people were to him, what they were _supposed_ to be, and he found himself at a loss for words. “We’re... They’re just my ride.” He finally settled on.

Vivi didn’t say anything for awhile, the air seeming to gain a weight of its own, bearing down on him. When she did speak, it didn’t help much, only made his chest clench tighter.

“Oh. I see, then.”

She was mad. He didn’t dare look at her, instead, murmuring an awkward farewell and heading outside for some fresh air. He tried to convince himself the poison scenario was the reason he didn’t want to be near them.

 

(32)

 

When a group of Pirates ambushed them the next day, Sanji had not been in the mood. Not only was the situation with Nami stressing him out, but he hadn’t slept last night, taking all of the night shifts in favor of sitting vigil by her side. None of them had argued much, not even the mosshead. They understood. Hell, Luffy understood. Nami could die. Was dying. Shit.

Regardless, he’d tried to keep out of it. Skirmishes between pirates were, frankly, none of his business. That was, until one of the fuckers actually tried to sneak below deck where Nami and Vivi were. Where Nami was still lying in bed sick.

He couldn’t let that slide.

He moved so fast and fluidly, despite the tension, despite the stares searing into him, no one realized what had happened until a _thunk_ resounded over the ship, and a body hit the deck. Slowly, everyone stopped glaring holes into each other in favor of the actual hole through the guy’s temple, where his knife had jammed itself in all the way to the hilt.

Sanji remained impassive, taking a drag from his cigarette, even when the disbelieving looks shifted to him.

“That area’s off-limits.” He explained. Figured he should keep it simple. They didn’t look all that intelligent.

“You,” The freak who’d been gnawing on a piece of the ship spluttered. “How dare you!! Raising a knife against _me!?”_

Sanji considered pointing out he’d _thrown_ his knife, from an upwards angle no less, so actually, the knife had been dropped on him, not raised. But then again, that guy looked like an even bigger blockhead than Niji, so he’d be wasting his breath. Instead, he settled for: “Oi, you’re the ones who picked a fight with us, don’t go getting mad just because you can’t handle the consequences.”

In the spirit of that, Luffy sent the freak flying a good ten kilometers, and all hell broke loose.

 

(33)

 

Surprisingly, it was Zoro who confronted him, snagging him by the elbow when he’d tried to leave. Sanji openly stared at the offending thing. Zoro had been in contact with Nami recently. Not direct, but still, he didn’t want to risk it.

Zoro, either unaware of his discomfort or not caring, continued to fix him with a stern scowl, “Shit-cook, what the hell was that!?”

“What was what?” He droned.

“Attacking a retreating man’s back is shameful,” Zoro growled, eyes flickering to the bodies littering the railing.

“Oh. That?” Sanji followed his gaze briefly before returning it to Zoro’s hand and jerking away. “Who cares about that. Those shitheads deserved it.”

Zoro’s glare hardened, resembling the looks he usually received from his more stubborn targets after they'd figured out what he was up to. Dumb, really. Could’ve fled while he was distracted, and honestly, hunting them down would’ve been a pain in the ass so he may have let them go.

Still, getting that stare-down from Zoro was much more unnerving, on the account, he could actually give Sanji a workout if he decided to attack. Sanji’s fingers twitched towards his knives, though he halted the motion, forcing them into a loose fist instead. Like he’d give the marimo the satisfaction.

Marimo continued to stare at him like a fucking weirdo for another minute, before turning and sauntering off with a scoff, “Tch. Whatever. I’m taking a nap.”

Sanji didn’t understand how that guy’s brain worked, nor did he want to. Felt like he’d be losing something. Probably intelligence.

“Sanji,”

He jumped a bit at Luffy’s voice, craning his neck to watch him walk over, Usopp not far behind. Usopp stopped a good five feet away, while Luffy only two, the latter wearing a serious frown that didn’t look right on his face.

“Thanks for protecting Nami,” He said, lips curving into a smile while his eyes remained serious. “But, don’t hit the running guys next time, okay?”

Sanji was too stunned to do anything besides agree. “Uh, yeah, sure thing.”

With a satisfied nod, Luffy skipped off, likely to visit Nami again.

Sanji stared after him for a moment, Luffy’s position as captain suddenly making a whole world of sense. He was still a moron, though. A gluttonous moron.

Sighing, Sanji decided to ignore Usopp’s dutiful nodding in favor of sizing up the corpses lining the railing. Might as well clean up a bit while he was out here.

“U-Uh, h-hey, Sanji,”

Sanji felt an annoyed tick coming on but turned to Usopp anyways. “What?”

Drawing in a sliver of air, Usopp changed his posture from shrinking to so forcefully confident Sanji wasn’t sure what to make of it. Jabbing a thumb at his chest, the sniper said, “Allow me, the Great Captain Usopp, to assist you!”

Sanji stared like Usopp had grown a second head, which he felt was generous. “Why would you want to do that?”

Sobering a fraction invisible to the naked eye, Usopp coughed into a fist, “W-Well, you see, the Merry was actually a kind of going-away gift from a friend of mine, so I decided I gotta take good care of it, you know? Otherwise, I won’t be able to face her when this is all over with.”

That piqued his interest. “Her?”

A picture of a beautiful princess blushing at a kneeling prince flooded his mind, a handful of roses and a nose long enough to see despite facing the opposite direction. Another image quickly took its place, this time, two brats skipping down a sidewalk, singing merrily with their arms intertwined. He was too shellshocked over the first to acknowledge the latter.

“A girlfriend!!?”

“No!” Usopp yelped, “K-Kaya’s just a, you know, a friend, is all!! A really good friend!!”

Sanji hardly heard him, too busy lamenting his crushed dreams. “How in the hell did you get a girlfriend when I still don’t have one!!? It’s not fair!!”

“Hey.”

While Usopp blabbered about how she ‘might be a little more than a friend, probably’ Sanji shoved a smaller corpse into the ocean. A splash, several bubbles as it bobbed to the surface, then nothing. Yeah, this might work. He moved to the next corpse, preparing to do the same, when Usopp finally seemed to snap back to reality.

“Ah! Sanji!! What the heck are you doing!!?”

“Dumping them,” Sanji said, shoving the other off the railing. He moved for the next, but Usopp slid between them.

“W-Wait a minute!! We can’t throw them in the ocean!! What if they come back to haunt us or something!!?”

Ghosts? Please. What was next, talking skeletons? As if stuff like that existed.

Rolling his eyes, Sanji dug a cigarette out, along with his lighter. “What do you suggest then?”

“Ah, uh, well,” Usopp’s gaze flickered to the bodies, skin turning a bit green, then forced a shaky grin at Sanji, “C-Can’t we just mail them back to their families? Ooh, or, better yet, we could mail them to the Marines! They should be able to identify them, or at least give them a proper burial!”

Huh. Hadn’t thought of that. “You think the news coo could handle that much weight?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out!”

That made sense. “I did see some boxes lying around the pantry.”

 

(34)

 

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALABASTA ARE YOU TWO DOING!!?”

 

(35)

 

By the time they reached the Winter island, the only thing infecting the others was Sanji’s shitty luck, so he crossed poison off as a suspect. This was proceeded by a wave of relief that, quite frankly, scared him half to death. One existential crisis later, he decided to do the rational thing—blame Luffy. Clearly, he was screwing with Sanji’s head somehow.

Better yet, he blamed them all. Even Carue. Duck or not, he must’ve had some part in this, because, fuck, Sanji wasn’t acting like himself lately.

For example, after being told they’d have to hike a flipping mountain to see the doctor—because of course, of all the islands they could’ve found, it just _had_ to be the one without any doctors around—Sanji actually volunteered to go along. To trek up a mountain in the middle of an icy wasteland. Sanji hated the cold almost as much as he hated overexerting himself, so by all means, he should’ve stayed in the cabin with Vivi. Wanted to.

Yet, the sight of Nami, usually so fiery and adorable, slumped against Luffy’s shoulders, small and looking like the next breeze could break her, something in him had stirred. Something that had refused to let him keep still, sending his body into autopilot, even as he’d chucked knives at those killer rabbits, trying to prevent an avalanche and failing. In the end, when he saw no other way, rather than jump and save himself, he chose to shove Luffy off the log, guaranteeing Nami would be safe, but condemning himself to a head on collision with a rock.

Despite likely having broken several ribs, not to mention the pain in his spine that was equal parts familiar and agonizing he’d actually felt _satisfied_ before passing out. Seriously, what the fuck?

 

(36)

 

As he tapped the embers of his cigarette into an ashtray, Sanji reflected on the days comparing himself to a whale had been considered insane. Now, not only had he nearly sentenced himself to death by rock, he was relating to _a bipedal talking reindeer._ Sanji was hating life. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Luffy wanted him on his crew the instant they’d realized their food sup—Chopper could talk. Honestly, the idea of sharing a room with a magic reindeer was a bit much for Sanji’s brain. Did seem like a good kid, though. And really, it’s not his fault he’d eaten a shitty devil fruit. According to Luffy, he’d eaten his by accident too, and humans were supposed to be smarter—

On second thought, comparing Luffy to Chopper felt like an unfair comparison for the young Doctor. Nevermind.

Where had he been going with that? Ah, screw it, may as well give up on cooking the kid, seeing as he was going to be joining the crew soon.

 

(37)

 

It wasn’t until after Wapol had been defeated that he spoke with Kureha. Given, they’d talked a bit, but that had mostly consisted of one-sided listening, swearing and screaming in terror as the granny chucked battle-axes at his head. After she’d thrown his spine out again, he’d been content to keep his mouth shut in hopes she’d forget him. She didn’t. Cornered him on his way to the Kitchen.

“So, boy, about time I reset that for ya, don’t ya think?”

“No,” He’d answered. Probably the most truthful thing he’d said in his entire life. He’d been unconscious the first time, not knowing what had taken place until he’d already been treated, but now? Now, he _knew_ what was coming. Hell no.

Crazy granny didn’t bat an eyelash, “If I don’t, ya won’t be walkin’ fer much longer.”

“I can manage.”

Wouldn’t be his first time with an untreated fracture. Those things normally sorted themselves out anyways, didn’t they? He didn’t see what the problem was.

 _That_ she didn’t like, if the malicious tip of her lips was anything to go by. “Will ya now?”

She took a step closer, Sanji scooted several back, ignoring the fuzzy-headed pain this caused him.

“Boy,” She said, exasperation practically flooding from her, though she did stop advancing on him. “Ain’t no one leaves my care with only half-assed treatment.”

“I’m fine.”

Releasing a whoosh of air, she cocked a brow at him, “Pretty interestin’ tattoo ya got on yer back.”

He moved away another step, “Yeah. What of it?”

Giving her head a shake, she proceeded to yank a bottle of wine out of literally nowhere and chugged half of it in a single go. With a satisfied breath, she tossed it to him, and he easily snagged it by the neck. Like he’d drink anything this crazy granny had touched.

“Noticed ya were tryin’ ta cover up somethin’. Scars.”

Suddenly, that wine didn’t look half bad. Sanji went ahead and helped himself to the rest of it.

“Indiscernible to an untrained eye,” She went on, “But _I’m_ an expert boy, there ain’t nothin’ ya can hide from me body-wise.”

He studied the bottle in favor of looking at her, appreciating the dry flavor still lingering on his tongue.

Another sigh, “If ya don’ wan’ me to do it, Chopper can.”

He jerked his chin up, ready to protest, but she cut him off with a raised finger. “It’s either Chopper or my spunky, spry self. Yer pick.”

To his credit, he hesitated a full second. “Think I’ll go with Chopper.”

“Good. My stash of wine is in the cabinet beneath the Kitchen sink. Help yerself.”

He waited a beat. “Thanks.”

She simply waved it off with a high-pitched laugh.

Sanji returned his eyes to the bottle. The thought of being helpless while someone tampered with his back made him nauseous. Since Chopper was a reindeer, maybe it wouldn't be as bad? Hooves weren’t as.... Right, guess he’d be in his hybrid form for the operation. Yeah. Definitely gonna sample a bit of her wine before going to him. Maybe all of it.

 

(38)

 

Definitely all of it. Sanji jabbed the empty bottle laying by his foot, sending it rolling across the Kitchen floor until it’d smacked into the other two with a _clink_ he barely registered. Too distracted by the clopping of hooves drawing nearer. They were gonna have to work on that, kid would get himself killed if the enemy could hear him coming from a mile away.

Sanji pretended not to notice when the reindeer poked his head through the doorway, proceeding to shift until he was completely visible, _then_ latching onto the doorframe with his hooves in the most backward attempt at hiding Sanji had ever seen. That, too, they would work on, though Sanji suspected it was a lost cause.

“Um.. mister pirate guy...”

“Not a pirate,” He replied, taking another swig from the bottle. This one tasted like vinegar, and he cringed. “Jus’ Sanji’s fine.”

Chopper seemed taken aback, blinking, then taking a few tentative steps into the Kitchen. “Um, Sanji, then.... I’m here about your back... Doctorine said you wanted me to do the procedure instead.”

“Did she?” Everything was kind of fuzzy at this point. Should really stop drinking. Sanji took another sip.

“Y-Yeah,” A pause, and the demure kid he’d been moments ago faded in place of an authoritative tone. “You shouldn’t be drinking. I’ll have to increase the anesthetic dosage you’ll be given for the procedure.”

“Fine by me,” Was all he said, before raising the bottle to his lips only to have it snagged away by a hairy hand.

“That means no more!” A now human-shaped Chopper snapped, raising the bottle over his head when Sanji tried to snag it back.

“Hey,” Sanji growled, leveling him with one of his most venomous glares.

Chopper returned the look sternly, “No means no!”

Sanji had a feeling things were about to get more troublesome aboard the Merry.

“Wha’s the big deal!” He slurred, “Shouldn’ you be runnin’ from Luffy right now? Crazy bastard.”

At that, Chopper’s Doctor mask crumpled enough to show exhaustion, confusion and... hope?

“I told him I needed to treat you in private, so he agreed to lay off for awhile.” A pause, “You’re not a pirate too?”

“Nah,” He gave a dismissive wave, “Jus’ hitchin’ a ride.”

Another beat of silence.

“W-What’s Luffy like?”

Sanji actually tore his gaze from the emptied wine bottles he’d been considering giving another try. Chopper was staring at the floor like half of him wished it would swallow him whole, while the other would fight it tooth and nail to stay. Guess Chopper was just as stumped by Luffy’s weirdness as Sanji.

“Well,” He answered, leaning his head against the cabinet with a thump, “He’s kinda dumb when you first get to know him, but at the same time, he can be a pretty smart bastard. Surprised me at first, makes me wonder if some of that air-headedness is just an act, but then again, guy can’t lie worth a damn, so I guess he’s just naturally that way.”

He turned to the reindeer again, gauging his reaction. Wariness, and again, a glimmer of reluctant hope was shimmering in his eyes. He edged closer like the floor had frosted over.

“O-Oh, is that so? What else?”

Sanji blinked, “Well, as I’m sure you saw earlier, he’s strong too. Haven’t seen him really fight yet, but from what I’ve seen so far, I can tell that much.”

Best way to kill him would be to dump him in the ocean or something. Given, the others would beat the shit out of anyone who so much as suggested that, it could be done. Get his trust, get him alone, boot him right over the railin—

“Why the hell would you even suggest that!!?”

“Huh?” Had he said that last part aloud?

“You mean you didn’t realize!!? How much of that did you have to drink!!?” Chopper went on to spew some crap about a ‘healthy intake’ as he frantically scanned the bottle’s label for the alcohol level.

Sanji stared blankly. The room was kind of spinning. Probably would be best to avoid standing. Probably would wind up bumping into a wall like a jackass, and that would be embarrassing.

“If you’re worried about embarrassing yourself, you shouldn’t have drunk so much in the first place!!”

Sanji squinted at him. Was he always this preachy?

“Shut up!!”

Regardless, Sanji hoisted himself up using the counter, cringing when the room’s spinning quickened another notch. “All right, les’ get this over ‘ith.”

“Sober up a bit first!!”

 

(39)

 

“So, how’s the back?” Nami asked, nearly causing Sanji to fall out of his chair because holy shit Nami was asking about him!

“Just fine, my love!” He swooned, ignoring the stabbing pain in his spine as he pulled himself upright again.

“He needs to keep off his feet for at least a week or so.” Chopper said, pattering into the room with a basket of herbs. “Otherwise, he’ll make it worse again.”

Sanji gave him a resentful glare.

Chopper didn’t bother looking at him. Guess it was impossible to find Sanji intimidating after seeing him lose his shit and drink half their wine—something Kureha had tried to kill him for, because ‘when she’d offered to share she hadn’t meant all of it.’ Sanji felt that was her fault for not specifying.

“All right,” She said, giving Chopper a nod, “I’ll make sure of that.”

Sanji stared at his beloved in open betrayal. She merely smiled, and damn it, she still managed to be cute even when turning on him!

“Guess your back actually is hurt this time,” She hummed, smile fading in place of a thoughtful frown, “At least now you have something to tell Vivi the next time she tries to hug you.”

For some reason, Sanji didn’t find that reassuring.

A laugh, this time at his expense, and she returned her attention to the magazine she’d been flipping through.

Chopper looked back and forth between them. “Sanji’s hurt his back before?”

“Something like that,” Nami chimed, while Sanji sank further into the table.

“Is that where th—”

Whatever he’d been about to ask was cut off by the door smashing open, Luffy bursting in like the hurricane he’d always been.

“REINDEER!! JOIN MY CREW!!”

“ACK!!” Chopper wasted no time bursting through the door opposite of him. “Leave me alone already, you stupid human!!”

“Reindeer, wait up!!” Luffy started after him, then noticed Sanji and paused to jog in place at his side. “Sanji, you join my crew too!”

Shifting to scowl at Luffy over his arm, he muttered, “I already told you no.”

“No!” Luffy snapped, quitting his jogging in favor of slamming a foot against the floor, creating an ear ringing slap that echoed off the walls. “You’re joining!”

“Luffy, don’t be so loud!” Nami sniped.

“Ah. Sorry.”

Taking that interim to prop himself over the table on his elbows, he argued, “You can’t decide that for me!”

“Too bad!! I already made up my mind to have you as my cook!”

On that note, Luffy took off after Chopper like a frickin’ homing missile. Sanji stared after him, mouth hanging open like a complete moron.

“Told you so,” Was all Nami said.

Jaw clamping shut, he shifted his scowl momentarily to her, before settling on his hands. He didn’t care what Luffy said, he was not a member of this crew, damn it!

 

(40)

 

After the crazy cherry blossom-whatever show, Sanji was perched on the railing above the rudder, his Den Den Mushi cradled in a palm. He glared at the ‘66’ painted on the shell like it’d insulted his great ancestors. Then again, if his current crop of family was anything to go by, his ancestors were probably all assholes. The ancestors on his mother’s side, then. There. That might piss him off.

The Den Den Mushi, understandably, shrank away, forehead beading with sweat. Or whatever came from snails when they were nervous.

He should just chuck the transponder into the ocean and serve this little bastard to Nami as an Escargot. Despite popular belief, Sanji didn’t want to die. The collision with that rock had certainly cleared that up for him. Still, the idea of his family winning didn’t sit well with him. If he gave up, he’d prove them right, that he was a worthless coward. If he died without taking down Dragon, or at the very least the second-in-command, he’d show he actually was a good-for-nothing dud. That they’d been right all along.

He hated the idea of either happening. Could just picture their annoying faces as they laughed over his grave. If they even gave him one. Then again, they could always laugh over his fake grave, seeing as the bastard was still pretending Sanji died eleven years ago.

“Hey, Sanji!”

At Luffy’s voice, Sanji jolted, nearly dropping the Den Den Mushi into the ocean after all, much to its horror. Sandals clapped over wood as Sanji scrambled to hide the dumb thing in his pocket again, drawing closer. By the time he’d skidded around the corner, Sanji was sitting casually as possible.

Luffy blinked at him rather owlishly. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

Luffy stared for a beat, then apparently decided to drop it. “Come on, we’re all gonna have a party for you and Chopper joining!”

“I didn’t join!!” Sanji snapped.

Luffy sulked like a willful brat. Given, Sanji hadn’t spent much time around brats, but this was pretty much how he imagined one would react to having their parents refuse to buy them some dumb toy.

“Why not?”

Sanji needed a smoke. “I already told you,” He said, fumbling for said smoke. “I’m taken.”

Luffy wasn’t fazed. “Then, I guess I have no choice. I’ll talk to your captain.”

Sanji nearly dropped his lighter. “Wha—!? Hell no!! And I already told you I’m not some shitty pirate!!”

“Then what’s the problem!?” Luffy whined, because, of course, that was what he’d taken from it.

Sanji opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. Couldn’t think of any reasons to give. Joining the crew would be great, quite possibly the best thing that’d ever happened to him, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? If he joined, he’d completely forget Germa, forget everything he’d been doing until now, and he couldn’t afford that. He’d come too far to just change his mind.

He couldn’t say that, though, so instead, he settled for changing the subject, hopping off the railing and headed for the deck. “A party, huh? Guess I may as well attend.”

By the time Luffy caught up, he’d already made it down the steps, Usopp shouting a greeting slurred by alcohol. Party hadn’t started, yet Usopp and Chopper were already doing some awful dance with chopsticks shoved up their noses while the ladies whispered to each other off to the side and Zoro tried to goad Carue into drinking. A disaster waiting to happen. Sanji promptly joined in, because, why not? Damn duck would be better for it, really.

As Luffy practically bowled Usopp over in his eagerness to join them, Sanji wrapped an arm around the duck’s neck, keeping him from backing away any further. With an evil smirk that showed he knew exactly what Sanji was up to, Zoro lunged forward, shoving the bottle of whiskey into Carue’s bill and dumping nearly half the contents down his throat. The reaction was glorious. Jerking away, Carue proceeded to run circles around the deck, wings cycling between frantic flapping and grabbing at its throat, all the while he squawked and squawked until Vivi became convinced he was dying.

Sanji laughed until he fell over, then the mosshead pissed him off, and they spent the rest of the night chucking anything they could at each other, even Chopper, at one point, much to the reindeer’s horror.

 

(41)

 

When they reached Yuba, Sanji felt physically ill. The first town they’d seen had made him relax, made him think maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Should’ve known better. Shitty things usually seemed nice at first. Like Germa. Like his mother’s health.

The instant he’d laid eyes on the ghost town, his stomach had clenched as though a fist had smacked into it. The others had looked horrified, the way anyone discovering their friend’s country was dying would, which did nothing to ease his mood.

Meeting the half-starved geezer certainly hadn’t helped, either. Finding out he was a friend of Vivi’s? He was cursing and regretting taking that stupid job. When she’d teared up? Well, he was missing Doctorine’s wine stash. Not that drinking would help much. Would only make him look as shitty as he felt.

Still. This was _his_ fault. He’d done all kinds of awful things in the past, but he’d never stuck around long enough to see the results. Not like this. He couldn’t breathe.

“Mister cook?” Vivi asked, apparently deciding to momentarily drop the silent treatment she’d been giving him.

“Fine,” He replied, voice catching in his throat.

She frowned, though let it go.

 

(42)

 

Sanji dreamed of red. It covered everything, the sidewalks, the buildings, the broken bodies scattered amongst the wreckage this once lovely town had been. Swallowing the lump rising in his throat, he staggered forward, struggling on legs belonging to a kid no older than twelve. He’d done this, he knew he’d done this, but he’d only been following orders, so it was fine wasn’t it?

The sound of stone hitting stone caught his attention, and he turned to watch someone shove their way out of the leftovers of a fallen building, bloodied and beaten. Luffy. He glared at Sanji with such disgust, he actually took several steps back.

“This is your fault.”

Sanji opened his mouth to protest, to defend himself, but he choked on the words. As if the ground had turned into water, corpses floated to the surface, Usopp, Chopper, Nami and Zoro, all glaring blankly, all covered in wounds suspiciously resembling cuts from a knife.

Taking another staggering step away, his back slammed into something warm. He whirled around, wide eyes locking with an accusing brown.

“We trusted you,” Vivi said, staring at him with all the warmth of Drum Kingdom.

A weight tugged at Sanji’s hand, and his gaze snapped to it, to a knife dripping splotches of red onto the dirt by his feet. He dropped it as though it burned, jerking away and clutching his wrist, also stained red.

What the hell!? He didn’t remember doing this! This was a mistake!!

This was—

This—

“It would be better if you died, don’t you think?” A child’s voice hummed.

He turned just in time to catch a glimpse of a metal bat sailing for his head.

He flinched awake. Heart doing flips in his chest, he bolted upright, kicking and punching the blankets until he’d batted them onto the floor. His feet followed not a second later, sending him through the doorway with the grace of a hurricane.

Only when the desolate buildings of Yuba were pinpricks on the horizon, did he keel over and empty all the contents of his stomach.

Shit. Scrubbing his damp forehead on his sleeve, he sat back, trying in vain to reign in the panic stabbing at his skin like pins and needles. Sucking in a breath between gritted teeth, he rubbed his arms, hoping to ease the sensation, knowing it wouldn’t work. Nights he didn’t wake violently were considered a rarity at this point. Just glad he hadn’t screamed himself awake recently. That would’ve been hard to explain. Another reason to get away from them soon as possible.

He took his time heading back. Every minute outside of Yuba was time well spent in his book. Sleeping there was like napping in a cemetery, he didn’t even want to consider how many corpses had been swallowed by the desert sand. Legs growing heavy with each step, he fumbled for a cigarette. Had one lit when he noticed Vivi leaning against the wall by the door. Her hair was down, frizzy and sticking up in odd places, clothes were disheveled, and bags hung beneath her eyes. For a moment, he considered ducking behind the nearest building and waiting for her to go inside before returning. Then, he shook it off. He was an adult, damn it, he wasn’t going to hide from Vivi.

“Hello, Vivi dear,” He greeted with a grin plastered to his face. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

She didn’t seem impressed. Worried, more like it.

“Could say the same for you, Mister Cook. What’re you doing wandering around so late? The desert’s dangerous at night, you know.”

He did know. Scorpions, snakes, sandstorms, frostbite; all kinds of messed up shit could happen out there. He’d read about it in books, not to mention, experienced the frostbitten part firsthand. Definitely not a pleasant memory, though he’d deserved it. Seeing Yuba had driven that home.

“Just out for a smoke,” He said. Not a complete lie.

“You must’ve really wanted that smoke. You ran outside like an entire fleet of Sea Kings were on your tail.”

If a bunch of Sea Kings were chasing him, he would’ve just killed them and cooked up a buffet. Luffy would love that. He was going over all the dishes he could make, when Vivi pushed off the wall and closed the gap between them, effectively blocking his way inside.

She crossed her arms, though her frown still rang of concern, “Are you all right? You’ve been looking pretty pale since we got here. You didn’t eat anything weird, did you?” Her cheeks turned gray, voice picking up several octaves, “Oh no, I forgot!! You didn’t eat anything that looked like a strawberry did you—”

“I’m sorry.”

It took Sanji several heartbeats to process the words, let alone that he’d said them. Vivi didn’t seem any better, gaping at him like he’d grown a pair of wings.

A blink, another, then her expression lit up briefly before turning sheepish, “Well, actually, I should be the one apologizing. Things got kind of heated when Nami was sick and.... Well, I had no right. It’s up to you who you consider your friends, and honestly, if you cared as little as you pretend, I doubt you would’ve helped get Nami to a Doctor, or even stuck around as long as you have.”

Sanji had no idea how to respond. As he watched her ramble on with a shaky smile, he realized she didn’t suspect a thing. Hadn’t even entertained the possibility he’d had something to do with Alabasta’s fall. Vivi was a good person like his mother. She shouldn’t be apologizing to someone like him.

“It was me.”

Her gaze floated to him, puzzled, “Huh?”

“I snuck the Dance Powder into the palace three years back. I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t look at her. Kept his eyes trained on the ground like a fucking coward.

“W-What are you saying?” Vivi asked with a tremor that could’ve easily been mistaken for a laugh. “You couldn’t have possibly—”

“I’m an assassin. Three years ago, a member of Baroque Works approached me—”

_WHACK!!_

His head jerked to the side as a palm smacked his cheek. He still refused to look at her, staring at a crack running up the wall, at the sand trickling from it like an hourglass.

“How dare you!!” She cried, grabbing the front of his coat and shaking him. “Do you know what you’ve done!!?” Her grip tightened, “My people are dying because of you!! My father—” She cut herself off in favor of punching him in the jaw, using enough force to send him staggering several paces.

Brushing the back of his hand over the tender skin, he finally glanced at her, breath stopping at the sight. Not only was she absolutely livid, tears were streaking down her chin.

“What did they offer you? Huh!?”

He flinched, mouth opening wordlessly.

“What the hell could’ve been so damn important!!?”

Nothing. He’d sentenced an entire nation to death for Berry. If he said that, however, Vivi would probably try to strangle him. Couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it.

When it became clear he had no intention of answering, Vivi took a threatening step closer, shoulders wrought with tension, like she wanted nothing more than to punch him again.

“You are going to help me stop this rebellion. You are going to stand there in front of everyone and tell them everything you just told me, damn it!!” Vivi stared him down, reminding him what an incredible ruler she’d be one day.

Already leaps and bounds better than the bastard.

“Now get the hell inside! I’m not letting you out of my sight!”

“I don't intend to run,” He murmured, “I already decided to help.”

“Good,” Vivi replied, tone and expression reminiscent of the Vivi from his dream, “Now get inside.”

Nodding, he pushed his way in, not bothering to check if anyone had been listening, or if they were even still in bed. He got the feeling no one was asleep as he laid down. Knew he wouldn’t be, either. When the sound of Vivi following never came, he doubted any of them would be sleeping tonight.


	3. A Promise, An Okama, and a New Crewmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I suck at estimating, this is definitely gonna take two more chapters to complete. One to start wrapping it up, the other to finish. This was supPOSED TO BE TWO CHAPTERS, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??

(43)

 

The morning was spent in a silence broken only briefly by Vivi and Luffy’s farewells to the geezer. Sanji’s mind was still reeling from last night, half cursing himself for telling the truth, half condemning, because, face it, he deserved it. The cold glares from Vivi, the awkward mumbles from the rest.

He’d more or less expected this treatment when his ‘career’ choice got out. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t been driven off with pitchforks. That seemed a more natural reaction than this.

Last night, the idea of them having overheard was a suspicion, but now, he was certain of it. The way they’d been avoiding him told that much, fanning out even as they traversed through a desert. Judging from the glances he kept getting, they were trying to be discreet, however, they were anything but, Usopp and Chopper glancing over every minute, frowning in a mixture of concern and wariness, Zoro and Nami going out of their way to not look at all.

As for Luffy.... well Sanji had given up on trying to understand him an island ago. Had no idea why he was lagging behind, nor did he bother trying to puzzle it out, too busy watching Vivi in his peripheral vision.

She was the exact opposite of them, remaining at his side, glancing over every other second like she was convinced he would bolt. He was tempted to.

Despite what he’d said last night, he’d stuck around under the belief he’d be helping from shadows, not confessing his sins before a crowd of pissed off soldiers and rebels. He’d caused enough wars to know how that would end. They’d either believe and want him dead, or, the more likely option, would peg them as liars. Then want him dead.

Sanji had been thorough three years ago, making damn sure no one saw him or learned his name. He puffed his chest out with a tinge of pride at the thought, however, deflated just as fast when Vivi cast him a scathing glare.

The odds of this working were low. He’d tried to explain this to her earlier, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Too worried for her people, too angry at him. Accused him of trying to weasel his way out of this, and to be fair, he kind of was.

On the off chance, this did go well, and they did listen, stuff like this would reach the newspapers. Newspapers would reach Germa. The bastard wouldn’t be pleased. All around this was a shitty idea for Sanji with nothing besides consequences. He needed out.

Blinking away the memories of darkness bubbling to the surface, he scanned his surroundings, this time, the scattered Strawhats taking on the forms of guards walking a prisoner to their execution. At this rate, it would be him to his.

Teeth clenching, his fingers twitched to the knives stowed away inside his coat. He didn’t have to kill, just injure. Could hit the mosshead, or Chopper, then while the others were surprised.... Hell.

Releasing the air coiled inside his lungs, he let his arms fall limp at his sides. As if he could do that.

“Luffy?”

At Usopp’s call, Vivi stopped, grabbing Sanji’s wrist in an iron hold that snapped him to reality. For whatever reason, Luffy wasn’t following anymore, slumped against a withered tree with his head down.

“Luffy,” she said, tone light despite her grip on him reaching painful levels. “What’re you doing?”

“I quit.”

“Huh!?”

If her grip had been bad before, now he was completely convinced she was _trying_ to break his wrist.

“What do you mean you quit!?” she snapped, edging closer with a cringing Sanji tugged behind her.

Zoro gave him a scowl that was almost sympathetic to his plight. Sanji regretted not stabbing him while he had the chance.

“We need to get back to the palace to—”

“No way. Don’t wanna.”

“You ‘don’t wanna!?’” Vivi echoed, successfully causing his wrist to pop in a way he was fairly certain wrists were _not_ supposed to.

“I want to beat the crap out of Crocodile,” Luffy said without a hint of his usual antics. “Would stopping the rebelling guys stop Crocodile?”

Of course, it wouldn’t. Luffy had a knack for getting straight to the point, didn’t he?

“Well, no,” Vivi said, skin paling several shades, “But—”

“You’re naive. You don’t want the rebels to die, you don’t want the soldiers to die, this is a war, Vivi. People die.”

“Stop Luffy, think of Vivi’s feelings—” Nami started, only for Zoro to step in her way.

“Stay out of it.”

“What!? But I—”

Vivi finally released Sanji in favor of slugging Luffy, sending him spiraling across the sand. Sanji backed away real fast.

“You can’t blame the rebels or the army for this!! Why should anyone have to die!!?” Jabbing a finger at Sanji, she yelled, “This is all _their_ fault!!”

He winced. If the others hadn’t overheard, they definitely knew now.

“Then why are you risking your life!?” Luffy snapped, springing forward and punching her with enough force to send her stumbling back.

“That’s going too far!!” Usopp cried, while Chopper gaped with his mouth hanging open.

Vivi showed how much she appreciated that statement by tackling him and proceeding to punch the shit out of him. If he wasn’t made of rubber, Sanji might’ve actually tried to help him. Probably. Vivi had a killer right hook.

“Even I can tell what this country needs most!!” Luffy went on like he wasn’t being hit with a barrage of fists. “Just by looking at the situation!! You think risking only yours and Sanji’s lives is enough!?”

“What else should I risk!!?” her voice cracked, “I have nothing left to give!!”

Sanji became extremely interested in a cactus in the distance, a familiar pang of guilt settling in. Didn’t change much, though. He abandoned the cactus in favor of studying the group. They were so distracted by Luffy and Vivi, they probably wouldn’t notice if he slunk off. Yeah. That would work.

“Why don’t you try risking our lives!!?” Luffy shot upright, causing Vivi to bowl over. “We’re your friends!!”

He moved several paces further, footsteps soundless over the sand. He was about to whirl on his heel and dart for Yuba, when Luffy apparently decided it was Sanji’s turn to have some sense screamed into him.

“Sanji!”

Sanji jerked, eyes snapping to Luffy as his spine shot ramrod straight.

“I don’t care about your past!! _We’re friends now, aren’t we!!?”_

For several beats, they stared each other down, Luffy with fierce stubbornness, Sanji in startled shock. He opened his mouth to reply, to shoot him down, to say he didn’t have friends, but nothing came out. He closed it.

Why did Luffy want someone like him around so bad, damn it? Here he was, seconds away from bolting even after saying he’d help, even after acknowledging the part he’d played in destroying this country. He was worthless. He was a liar. He—

Shouldn’t feel so damn relieved right now!

Fingers curling into fists tight enough to turn his knuckles purple, he lowered his head, fighting away the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, failing, ending up with a tremulous thing spread across his face.

“...Yeah.” he choked out, a weight he hadn’t realized was there lifting, the resolve he’d nearly forgotten taking its place instead.

He wasn’t going to run from this. He’d help Vivi, dangers be damned. It’s not like this was his first suicide mission.

Besides, if the worst came to be, and the bastard tried to have him locked up again, he could always use the poisoned knife on himself. Would beat being trapped in that cell for the rest of his life. In that case, he’d have to start carrying it around with him. Just to be safe.

Luffy’s serious expression softened a tinge before returning to Vivi.

“Tell me,” he said, pushing up the brim of his hat, “Tell me where Crocodile is!!”

 

(44)

 

“I still haven’t forgiven you, you know.” Vivi bit out, gaze trained straight ahead, to where Luffy was bouncing around Usopp, fighting over the water pouch for the tenth time in the past hour.

Sanji lowered his eyes right as Chopper changed into his hybrid point, snagging the water and holding it out of both their reach.

“I know,” he answered, meaning every word. “I never expected that from you, Vivi.”

A stretch of silence passed between them, all the while Luffy and Usopp screamed insults at Chopper, the former seeming to have forgotten he was made of rubber.

“I think I knew. Deep down.” Vivi said, causing him to whirl around, mouth hanging open. “That day, at the palace, I saw you leaving. Blond hair kind of sticks out in the desert.”

 _Not anymore so than blue,_ Sanji reflected, though out of fear of being punched again, wisely kept his mouth shut.

Vivi glared daggers at him, “I know my hair is weird too, but I was born here, so it doesn’t count. People know me.”

Sanji forced a polite smile, “Of course, Vivi dear.”

A fist jabbed into his side, knocking the air from his lungs.

“Don’t patronize me,” Vivi snapped, hand withdrawing to her side, “And don’t call me that!”

He never won.

Huffing, she secured her hood in place, “Stick with me, got it? I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is all over with.”

Battling the heart eyes away under fear of death, he nodded a bit too fast. “Anything for you, my love!”

“Shut up.”

“I’m sorry.”

 

(45)

 

Vivi let him out of sight. Well, to be more accurate, a bird-guy swooped out of nowhere while they were fighting a horde of marines and grabbed her. He didn’t even have enough time to shout before she’d vanished over a rooftop. For a moment, everything stopped. Not a word was spoken, not a weapon used, everyone simply staring after the kidnapped Princess.

At the same instant, the reality of their situation dawned on them, swords and rifles alike being raised in Sanji’s direction, while he calmly dropped his cigarette and stomped the bud out with his heel.

“You there, surrender!!”

“You damn Pirate!!”

Breathing in through his nose, Sanji reached for the front of his cloak, not batting an eyelash when the sound of rifles being readied followed.

“Quit whatever you’re doing right now!!”

“I’m no Pirate,” he said, sliding the fabric down his shoulders and shrugging it off.

“Like we’d believe that!” The same guy yelled, “You damn lyin’ crook! Put your hands where we can see ‘em!”

“If I were just a Pirate,” he said, “You’d probably be leaving here alive.”

On that note, Sanji tossed his cloak into the air, ducking down as several bullets tore through the fabric, whizzing by his head. His fingers flew to the knives stashed within his sleeves, unhooking them with such ease, by the time the cloak had landed in a heap at his feet, he’d already balanced eight between them, hands positioned like they were claws. Gunfire cracked over the narrow passageway, knives whirled through the air, blood splattered the sand and brick walls, and not a minute later, it was over, Sanji standing in the center of a pile of bodies, with only a few scratches to show for it.

Cringing at his knives, now covered in blood and who-knows-what-else, he dropped them, stooping down to retrieve his cloak, then sighing when he found it ruined. He should really think of a less messy way to fight.

“Holy shit!!”

At the startled cry, Sanji dropped the ruined fabric, drawing a knife in record time and shifting into stance.

A marine had turned the corner, scooting backward with a wild look in his eyes. Must’ve been a greenhorn if the way he proceeded to drop his rifle and run said anything. Deciding for a blow between the shoulder blades, Sanji slung his arm forward, Luffy’s words ringing in his mind as the hilt slid through his fingertips.

_“Thanks for protecting Nami, but don’t hit the running guys next time, okay?”_

Everything slowed down, the air hissing around the blade, the marine’s horrified glance over his shoulder.

Moving quicker than he could comprehend, he retrieved one of his abandoned knives and chucked it at the other, spiraling bottom over top until it collided with the first, sending them both careening in opposite directions with a nearly deafening _SHINK!!_

As though the noise had broken whatever trance he’d fallen into, the world returned to normal, the marine screaming and picking up speed, nearly tripping over his own feet in his attempts to escape.

Sanji watched until he was out of sight, chest heaving, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. Shit. That’d been way too close.

Lowering himself to a crouch, he took a minute to regain his bearings, willing his hammering heart to slow to a steady pace. Vivi. That was right. He had to save Vivi.

Took him longer than he was proud of to scale the building. When he’d finally made it to the top.... Well, Vivi was gone, and bird-guy was dead from the looks of it. Had Vivi done this?

Edging forward, Sanji studied the unnatural bend to his back, the white of his eyes, the skin nearly gray. No. Vivi wasn’t capable of something this brutal. She was too kindhearted.

Just to be sure he actually was dead, Sanji prodded the guy in the ribs a little harder than necessary. When a strangled groan answered, he sighed, took several steps away, lit a cigarette, then stared at the sky absently.

As the taste of tobacco seeped into his mouth, he wondered what to do. Vivi was gone. For how long he couldn’t be certain. Unless...

He returned his gaze to the unconscious shit-stain that’d caused this. Releasing a mouthful of smoke, he moved forward, removing his cigarette and stooping down beside him. Flicking the ashes away, he smashed the bud onto the man’s clammy wrist, not batting an eyelash at the sizzling that followed, nor the man’s pained scream. His pupils returned from where they’d been rolled up inside his head, teeth gritting in an attempt to mask his pain. Sanji might’ve found that respectable if he wasn’t so annoyed.

“Good, you’re conscious. Thought you’d sleep all day, you bastard.” he murmured, careful to keep his tone steady. Letting his emotions show would work against him. “What the hell did you do with Vivi!!?”

Okay, he’d failed. He’d failed at keeping his emotions under control.

Moving to pin the guy in place, he yanked him upright by the collar, towering over him with their faces inches apart. “Tell me, or I’ll throw you off this damn building!! I’ll kill you, got it!?”

Rather than do the rational thing and answer, the guy grabbed Sanji’s shoulders, a muffled hiss the only indicator doing so had hurt him.

“You must be.... one of Princess Vivi’s friends..” A shaky grin spread across his lips, relief radiating from him like a beacon. “I’m.... relieved...”

Sanji’s fingers loosened, allowing the fabric to slide out of his grasp. Ah, shit.

“Thank.. goodness...” The guy went on, voice catching, eyelids glistening, and holy shit, he was about to cry wasn’t he?

“I couldn’t..” Another choked breath and several drops of water streaked down his cheeks, dripping from his chin and landing on Sanji’s hands.

Sanji recoiled as though burned.

If the guy noticed, he gave no sign of it, squeezing his eyes shut as a sob shook his shoulders, “I couldn’t protect her!! I couldn’t protect the Princess!”

Oh no. Oh hell.

If the guy hadn’t been clutching Sanji’s shoulders in a grip reminiscent of Vivi’s from earlier, he probably would’ve backed away. Far away.

“Ple...ase.. H-Help Princess Vivi!! I’m.. I’m begging you!!”

Sanji shrunk as much as his current position would allow him to. “I-I was already going to!!” The next part, he yelled far louder than necessary, but at this point, he was too freaked out to care, “Stop crying, damn it!! I’ll go right now, okay!!? I’m helping, you got it!?”

A nod, then that creepy grateful smile made its return, “The Royal Guard is... forever in your debt.”

Royal Guard? This guy was—!?

“That woman, Nico Robin, defeated me and took Princess Vivi somewhere, claimed the—” A pause, and the guy blinked a little too hard. “The rest of your crew are currently being held in a cage at Rain Dinners.”

A cage? Ignoring the sudden drop in temperature, Sanji shrugged the guy’s hands off and got to his feet, straightening his clothes.

“Okay,” he said, “I got it.”

He took a step to leave.

“Wait.”

Sanji stopped, angling his head to peer over his shoulder.

The guy was pushing himself upright, releasing a pained cry that did nothing to stop him. “Your name.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a member of the crew that got the Princess here safely, are you not? Tell me your name.”

He wasn’t a member of their crew, but for the sake of hurrying this up, decided to leave that part out. “Sanji.”

A nod, “Pell.”

Something passed between them, though he had no clue what. Just that he felt far more reluctant to leave Pell when he fell backward, slamming into the roof with his eyes rolled up again. Eyebrows pinching together, he glanced in the direction of Rain Dinners, then back to Pell. He wasn’t by any means a Doctor, but he could at least drop him off at one, couldn’t he?

It wasn’t Sanji’s job to help random strangers. Except, Pell wasn’t random, and he certainly wasn’t a stranger. Not anymore.

Telling himself Vivi would be pissed otherwise, he hoisted Pell over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Just a quick pitstop. That was all.

 

(46)

 

Sanji watched Luffy’s figure grow smaller and smaller on the horizon, shoving the urge to go to him aside with everything he had. He’d given his word to Pell. He had to stay with Vivi.

Gritting his teeth against a wave of frustration, he tore his gaze away, averting it to her instead. She’d clasped her hands in front of her chest, eyes squeezed shut despite being jostled by the crab’s rapid steps.

“He’ll be okay,” She repeated like a mantra. “He’ll be okay.”

Sanji wanted to believe her.

 

(47)

 

“Are you sure about this?” Vivi asked, reminding him of not long ago when their roles had been reversed.

When she’d been the crazy one risking it all.

Drawing in a sliver of air, Sanji tugged his hood further down the bridge of his nose. “Someone’s gotta watch your back.”

Frowning, she glanced at the others, to the ducks darting out of sight. That seemed to be a trend today. Suicide missions had been much easier when he’d been the only one risking his life. An image of Luffy resurfaced, and he shook it off. Couldn’t think about that right now.

“Besides, you need me to confess everything, don’t you?” he said, taking a page from Usopp’s book and jabbing a thumb at himself with a forced grin. “Plan wouldn’t be half as effective without me around!”

Not that the odds were that great, to begin with.

She moved to Carue, hands adjusting the straps to his saddle. A beat later, she paused, though she kept her head turned away. “I really appreciate this.”

He blinked, “No need. I basically caused all this to begin with.”

A puff of air, “Enough talking. Let’s go.”

Nodding, he joined her, offering a hand to help her up, but redrawing it when she gave him an icy stare.

“Sorry.”

Habits.

Once Vivi was seated, Sanji hopped on as well, fingers coiling around the saddle for balance.

“It should be okay,” Vivi said as though to reassure herself, “Leader and I go way back. He’ll definitely listen.”

Sanji didn’t comment. He knew from experience it was never that easy.

And it wasn’t. As he stared at the sand kicked up by the horses of the Rebel army, he reflected, being right sucked. He politely kept his attention anywhere but on Vivi, who was covered in bruises despite his and Carue’s best efforts to shield her.

Now what?

“Vivi!”

At the familiar voice, Sanji shifted, studying the figure closing the gap between them on horseback. Usopp?

“Get on!”

Had his goggles, but still. No way Usopp had finished his opponent and gotten here that fast. Plus, the camel—Eyelash or whatever—wasn’t with him. Sanji drew a knife, causing Vivi to give him a startled look before turning to fake Usopp.

“Show us proof!”

The instant fake Usopp raised his arm, acting like the bandages alone were proof enough, Sanji assaulted him with a knife, a hand on the horse’s neck to flip him over the back. Fake Usopp somersaulted away with an ease the real thing could never have accomplished, receiving a mere scratch across his left cheekbone.

That settled it. Sanji landed on the saddle in a crouch, one hand to steady himself, the other still gripping his knife.

“How incredibly rude of you!” Fake Usopp crowed, ripping off his disguise to reveal the most fashionably questionable outfit Sanji had ever seen.

Even worse than his brothers taste in clothing and that said something.

“Attacking your own comrade!!?”

Sanji ignored him. “Vivi, take Carue and go, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Ah, but—” She cut herself off, gears visibly turning, then acquiesced with a nod. “All right. I’ll see you at the palace!”

“As if I’d let you escape!” The okama shouted, twirling after Vivi in some weird fighting stance.

Sanji chucked his knife, causing the okama to stop long enough to kick it into the sand. Okay. That was a first.

“Wait up!!” He yelled, already trying to chase Vivi again.

Stubborn bastard.

Hopping off the horse, he darted after him, aiming a kick at his head. The okama ducked with ease, twirling and retaliating with a shot for his neck. Sanji leapt out of range, a monstrous swan shoe scratching the tip of his nose. Guess they were good for something.

Shifting into stance, Sanji reached for a knife, scowling with no small amount of irritation when he discovered he was down to two. Should’ve brought more.

“Out of my way!” The okama yelled, raising a leg and both arms in yet another weird as hell fighting pose. “Or face the wrath of my Okama Kenpo!!”

“Okama Kenpo? Never heard of it.”

The okama jerked back as though struck, collapsing to his knees with a hand clutching his heart. An opening!

Sanji darted for him, spinning a knife around his hand until it was facing forward, then lashing out with yet another kick. Bon didn’t have enough time to duck, Sanji’s foot smashing into his jaw with a satisfying crack.

Several puffs of sand were thrown up as Bon was sent rolling, but Sanji wasn’t bothered, pushing the glasses he’d swiped earlier closer to his eyes and springing onto the okama. He pinned him, a knee digging into his chest, a hand shoving his jaw up while the other pressed a knife to his throat.

The okama was finished. Must’ve known it too, because, with a nearly inaudible sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to fall limp.

“Go ahead,” he said, “Now that I've failed, the organization will kill me anyways.”

A trick? Sanji studied the man, the looseness to his features, his averted gaze. Hesitantly, Sanji relaxed his grip a tinge. Logically, he knew he should do it, but....

An image of Smoker flashed through his mind, shoulders slumped in defeat as water dripped from the tips of his hairs. By all means, he should’ve tried to capture them after being saved, should’ve taken advantage of it, but instead, he’d lowered his chin and said: _“Go,”_

Sanji still didn’t understand. He’d spared people, sure, but never ones he thought could be a threat later. Then again—

He frowned down at the okama who was yet to open his eyes, let alone try anything. Ah, what the hell. Guy seemed like a hopeless moron anyways. Wouldn’t do much harm.

Sanji moved the knife away, holstering it once more and sitting back on his haunches. “Goggles.”

“Huh?”

“I’m taking the goggles.”

Sanji snagged them, sliding to his feet and backing away, gaze never leaving the enemy.

“You’re.... sparing me!?” The guy exclaimed, tone thick in a mixture of surprise and relief.

“Only because I don’t want to dirty my knife,” he replied. Didn’t think it was a lie, yet, his forehead beaded with sweat.

A sniff, then the okama was sobbing like a brat that’d tripped. “I’m so incredibly grateful!!”

Not this again. Sanji couldn’t get on the horse fast enough.

“I’ll never forget your kindness!! Uwaaaaaaaahh!!”

“Oi, shut up before I finish you off after all!!”

 

(48)

 

That Crocodile bastard was choking Vivi. Sanji stood in the palace gate, heart thumping in his chest. He’d expected her to need his help, but not like this, damn it!! Sucking in a breath between gritted teeth, he ran a hand through his hair, already slick with sweat. Shit. He needed to keep calm.

Prying his attention away, he took in the scene. A guy he recognized as Cobra had been crucified against the palace wall, Nico Robin not far off. Must’ve been her work. Several bodies were scattered around her, bloodied and beaten, and in the center of it all, was the asshole himself, holding Vivi off the ground by her throat, yammering on about some bomb. Sanji didn’t like the sound of that.

He edged closer, noticing Robin’s eyes flickering to him, then just as swiftly averting; like she was pretending not to see. Just like she had at Rain Dinners earlier.

He ignored her for now, too busy thinking of some way to survive this. He drew a blank. Swallowing, he glanced at the gate, a tugging sensation in his legs, begging him to leave, to live another day, but he kept advancing, thoughts of Luffy and his promise to Pell making his blood roar in his ears.

For a moment, he could almost hear his brothers through it, taunting and insisting he run like the useless coward he is. His grip tightened around the hilt, knuckles turning purple. Screw them!!

He slung his knife in an arch so that it crashed into Crocodile’s arm top over bottom, successfully sawing it off. Vivi collapsed to her knees in a fit of coughing, rivers of sand crashing into her hair.

Slowly, Crocodile turned to him, and when Sanji saw the rage darkening his features, he knew he was done for. Crocodile vanished into a puff of sand on the next breeze, rematerializing inches from Sanji, and then—

Something cold hit his stomach. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a scream, but it sounded like it came from underwater. Jerkily, he lowered his head, vision unfocused and blurry.

Gold and red. The colors jumbled together, jumping out at him only to shrink away. For several heartbeats, he stared uncomprehendingly.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, grip iron as it yanked him closer, the weight in his torso spreading beneath his ribs. Almost numbly, he noted Usopp’s goggles had fallen out of his pocket, smacking onto the concrete and splitting in two.

A voice rumbled in his ear, “You must be Mister Prince.”

Sanji’s eyes hovered to Crocodile’s, locking.

“Consider this my payment to you for earlier, you filthy Vinsmoke trash.”

Wha—?

The hand shifted to his chest, shoving him away as the weight tore out of his gut. He felt weightless, body falling backward and slamming onto the ground, streaks of red spiraling across the sky, so blurry he could’ve mistaken them for clouds if he hadn’t known better.

Arms hollow, he fought to cover the gaping hole in his torso with his fingers, wincing when pins and needles spread across his stomach. He’d been run through. Shouldn’t it hurt? Why didn’t it hurt? Why didn’t—

His brain seemed to click off, vision tunneling until all he could see was the desert sun glaring down at him, bleary yet blinding all the same. He could almost imagine his mother’s figure standing there, smiling at him brightly despite everything, despite all the awful things he’d done, what he’d become.

His eyes stung.

Right before the world went black, an enraged yell split the air, soon followed by dull thuds and crashing that promised the beginnings of a fight. It was strange, he could’ve sworn that voice belonged to—

 

(49)

 

When Sanji came around, it was to a face hovering over him, blocking out the sun. Startled, he moved to shove them away, but his body was so weak he couldn’t reach. The person caught his wrists, moving them down with a worried look.

Pell?

“So, you’re up?” he spoke softly.

Or was Sanji’s hearing just shit right now? Whatever. Didn’t matter.

Stubbornly, Sanji reached out again, trying to grab Pell by the collar, but only succeeding in planting his hands on it.

“Lu..ffy... the ot..hers..”

Pell seemed surprised, then blinked it away and grinned kindly instead. “They’re searching for the bomb. As for Luffy,” Pell broke off, something dark passing through his face, but it was gone just as fast. “He’s also searching for the bomb.”

Sanji felt his body relax. So, he’d survived after all? For some reason, he felt like Luffy had been in some kind of danger. Like, the idea of him being here should be unthinkable. He couldn’t remember why, though.

“T-Take....” his throat was dry, and he stopped long enough to swallow, however, in the end, doing so sent him into a bout of coughing.

Pell reached out, steadying him with another frown, “You shouldn’t talk. I’m surprised you’re even alive right now.”

Sanji shook his head. At least, he thinks he did. Tried to. “Take me.... Take me to.. them.”

If Pell replied, he didn’t hear, vision already fading into nothing.

 

(50)

 

This time he was propped against a building. Rain splattered the sand with a hiss that frankly, did nothing for his pounding head. Maybe it was because the cold water dripping down his face, but he was fairly lucid this time, taking in his surroundings with strained eyes. Then again, maybe not, considering his first thought was: wasn’t Alabasta in the middle of a drought?

After that, he noticed the Strawhats lying around him, covered in wounds and every bit as drenched as he was. Looked unconscious.

Hands shaking worse than the time he’d had frostbite, he fumbled for a smoke, shielding it with a hand and lighting it with the other. Wasn’t even lit when he relented, yet, he was grinning, an entire planet’s worth of weight dissipating.

Unconscious meant alive. They’d all survived. Shit.

Didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, when the clattering of footsteps drew his focus to an entire squad of marines, a girl with short hair and a flower print shirt beneath her uniform staring them down.

Jerkily, Sanji unhooked the holster around his ankle, fingers coiling around a knife—his final knife—and tried to stand. His legs capsized, sending him smacking into the ground in a way that made his entire body flood with pain. He forced himself to his knees anyways, knife raised between them.

The girl watched him, eyes round and her lips drawn into a twisted line, like she was battling against something. The men around her raised their weapons, looking to her for approval. She must’ve been their leader.

A heartbeat passed, two, three, the men began advancing.

“Stop,” she said, voice shaking. Another beat, and she straightened, shoulders set in a stubborn way. “Leave these Pirates be. That’s an order.”

Somewhere amongst the group, a guy shouted, “S-Sergeant Major!! This is a chance we cannot lose!!”

“Right now, I will not allow you to lay a single hand on them!!” she snapped, eyes burning like fire despite being sopping wet. “They saved this country!”

Several still argued, claiming they’d get promoted if they captured them, and Sanji prepared himself for a fight. Like hell he’d let those bastards take them!

In the spirit of that, he choked out, “Back... off..” A cough shook his shoulders, blood splattering onto the sand, mixing with the water puddling beneath him. He didn’t care. He had to make them stop, had to make them _understand._

“The... They’re my.. friends!”

A few marines drew closer, and he jerked his arm up to shield the others, knife slipping through his fingers and clattering by his knee. He couldn’t pick it up. He couldn’t move any more.

Thankfully, the marines had stopped, staring in startled shock. The woman took advantage of this to round on them, spinning on her heel and shoving passed.

“We’re leaving.”

Slowly, the rest turned and followed, some glancing over their shoulders at him with regretting frowns. He waited until they were out of sight before allowing himself to collapse again. Had he done it? Did they get it? What had he said again? Shit, he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t—

A quivering breath was the last thing he felt.

 

(51)

 

When Sanji woke up for good, it was to the sight of a gray ceiling. Had no clue where he was, but honestly, he was just glad to be out of the rain. The next thing he noticed were the voices. Sounded like someone was arguing.

He tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but pain slammed into him like a punch to the gut, and he fell onto his pillow cursing. Must’ve been louder than he’d thought, because the voices stopped, turning instead into footsteps, then Chopper was standing beside him, Usopp and Zoro not far off.

“Ah!! Sanji!!” Chopper had tears in his eyes.

Sanji had no idea how to respond and wished people would just stop crying around him already.

“You’re aliv—I mean, awake!! I knew you’d be okay!!”

Sanji didn’t find that reassuring. At all.

“Of course he is! I told you he would be!!” Usopp declared, with the expression of someone who had definitely not thought that.

Zoro rolled his eyes at the two before plopping on the foot of his bed, something Sanji didn’t appreciate one bit. Insensitive bastards. He was in pain here.

“V-Vivi,” he croaked, surprising himself with how weak it came out. “And Nami. L-Luffy, too. W-Where are they?”

With a sniff, Chopper rubbed the tears on his arm. “They’re okay. Luffy woke up earlier this morning. Actually, you just missed him, he hasn’t left your side since waking up, even refused to attend the banquet until you could come too, but Vivi talked him into having a snack, at least.”

A prickle of unease spread through him, but he shoved it aside for the time being.

“And Crocodile?”

Zoro answered this time, tone practically oozing defiance. Sanji had a feeling it wasn’t directed at him though.

“Luffy beat him. He’s on his way to Impel Down as we speak.”

No taunting. That was new.

Sanji gave a weak nod, “Right. That’s... That’s good.” Then a thought hit him, “What about Pell?”

Everyone froze. Sanji didn’t understand.

Usopp stepped closer, skin losing a bit of color, “Y-You mean the hawk-guy that brought you to us?”

That sounded about right. “Yeah.”

Silence.

He was about to ask what the big deal was, when Chopper sniffled, though this time, Sanji had a feeling it wasn’t out of relief.

“H-He flew away with the bomb.”

Sanji blinked, “Is he not back yet?”

A long sigh and Zoro eyed him, something weird mixed inside his usual irritating scowl, “He’s dead, cook. Bomb blew up.”

He opened his mouth to respond, only to find his throat had gone dry. Pell had died?

“You shouldn’t be speaking,” Chopper scolded, “You need to rest, or you won’t heal.”

“‘M fine.” he answered absently.

“No, you’re not!! You were run through with a hook!!”

Usopp saved him the trouble of replying, planting a hand on the reindeer’s shoulder. “Come on Chopper, he’s been asleep for days, a couple minutes awake won’t hurt him.”

“Well,” Chopper looked at him again, uncertain. A beat passed, and he nodded, “All right. But no moving around!”

“Don’t worry, I, the great Captain Usopp will keep him from doing anything too crazy! Why I once watched an entire hospital by myself! No, five of them! And they were all under attack by dragons!”

“Ooh!! Really!? You’re amazing, Usopp!!”

Usopp went on to share his ‘incredible and completely true tale,’ but Sanji hardly heard him, allowing the apathy he’d grown so accustomed to over the years to slip over him. It was like an old jacket, a bit tight in some places, yet comforting in its familiarity. Apathy was easier than feeling. Apathy was safe.

“That’s some tattoo you’ve got,” Zoro remarked offhandedly, an arm slung over his knee. “Didn’t take you for the type.”

Sanji forced his lips into a lopsided grin. “So, you saw it, huh?”

A snort, “Yeah. Lucky for you it didn’t get ruined. Why don’t you consider that next time you’re about to throw yourself into the enemy’s weapon, shit cook.”

“What?” Sanji tried to snap, but it came out a whine.

As if that’d been an intentional move. Damn marimo.

“Why a fish of all things?” Zoro asked after another minute had passed.

“Huh? I thought it was pretty cool, don’t you?”

Still did. He’d gotten it when he was fourteen. The scars on his back always drew too much attention, that and, well, he was tired of them. Hated knowing they were there, that people could see them. That they could _know._

He’d gotten it as a sorta birthday present to himself, deciding it was the ultimate middle finger to his brothers. That the years of torment they’d inflicted on him could be erased so easily.

Hadn’t known what to get at first, but ended up with a fish that stretched from his left hip to his right shoulder blade, dark and wispy as though it was made of shadows, and its visible eye glowing red. The more gruesome scars that couldn’t be hidden had been incorporated into the design, drawn in such a way, it looked like it was part of the fish rather than a gouge into his back. The rest were covered by an oceanic pattern, rippling waves covering the remaining deep slashes, and a dark gray covering the smaller, less noticeable ones.

Despite it having taken a week to finish, a painful week of enduring someone repeatedly stabbing a needle through his back, something he hated people touching in the first place, he couldn’t thank the tattoo artist enough. He’d been great, not asking questions, not trying to give him some shitty counseling session. Just quietly helped him cover them.

Clucking his tongue, the marimo pointedly turned away, a gesture Sanji knew him well enough to identify as a reluctant agreement. Ha. Take that.

“And that’s when I knew,” Usopp yelled, planting his foot on the other bed dramatically. “There was only one way to save the patients. I had to skin the dragons.”

“Woah!!” Chopper shrieked, hopping up and down with his hooves above his head, “That’s so cool!!”

“It’s something all right,” Sanji remarked, while Usopp swiped a thumb over his nose, far too pleased with himself. That wouldn’t do. “Hey, Usopp, I broke your goggles, by the way. My bad.”

A pause. “YOU WHAT!!?”

A rant later, they settled down, Usopp sulking in the corner as he worked on Nami’s Clima-Tact while Chopper poured over medical textbooks he’d borrowed from the Royal Library, and the moss-for-brains fell asleep sitting up. Tuning out the snoring coming from the end of his bed, Sanji stared at the ceiling, making a point not to think.

Stayed that way for awhile, may have all day if the door hadn’t burst open, Luffy rushing in with a rejuvenated look about him. His gaze snapped around the room, sobering a bit at the sight of everyone crowding his bed, then brightening when it landed on him.

“Ahh!! Sanji!!” he yelled with his widest grin yet, “You’re up!”

While Luffy scampered to his side, Sanji forced himself upright, leaning against the headboard for support.

“Come on, let’s party!!

“‘Party?’” Sanji echoed. His mind wasn’t well enough to deal with Luffy-logic.

Luffy nodded vigorously, grabbing his shoulders with such enthusiasm, it was almost frightening. “Curly guy’s wife is gonna cook us a feast!!”

Sanji didn’t get how anyone could be that happy about anything, though he did wonder what kind of dishes would be served. Maybe he should ask for recipes before leaving?

“Come on, let’s go and tell her you’re up right now!!”

“Okay,” Sanji said, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and hobbling to his feet.

On cue, Chopper looked up from his book. “Huh, Luffy? Uh.. AHH!! SANJI I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN BED!!”

“‘M fine,” he replied, ignoring the thrumming from his wound.

Luffy laughed, a loud, carefree sound. “Come on Chopper, Sanji’ll feel much better after he has some meat!”

“That’s not how that works!!” Chopper snapped, looking moments away from changing into his hybrid form and clobbering the both of them.

Luffy may have picked up on this because that’s when he grabbed Sanji’s wrist and bolted out of the room, laughter never stopping, not even when a series of furious shouts followed. Although he was in pain, Sanji couldn’t help but crack a grin. Things weren’t great, but he guessed they could be worse.

 

(52)

 

Sanji didn’t stick around long, eating his food and slipping away when things got too rowdy. Being in the palace was nostalgic, though not in a way that was good or bad; just familiar. He settled on one of the balconies, draping himself over the railing as he studied the Kingdom. Not much time had passed, and yet the city was already in much better condition than before. The damaged buildings boarded up, the streets cleared of rubble.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Sanji blinked, shifting to face Vivi, who had come up beside him, a soft smile spread across her lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, studying a withered tree in favor of meeting her eyes.

“You know,” she said, a playful note to her voice, “When Pell brought you to us, he said it was because you wouldn’t stop asking him to, even after passing out.”

Sanji’s head jerked up, cheeks gaining an unnatural amount of warmth. T-That bastard!!

“To think, the guy who claimed the others were ‘only his ride’ would be so concerned in the end.”

Wishing the floor would swallow him up, he slumped against the railing, burying his face in his arms. “You’ve been with Nami too much.”

She laughed, “Maybe so.”

He paused, “..You still want me to confess what I did?”

A hum and he felt her lean against the railing beside him. “No, now that Crocodile’s corruption has gotten out, there’s no need. It all worked out in the end.”

Sanji shot up fast enough to make his wound throb, “Vivi!!?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t forgiven you just yet.”

He slumped against the railing again, disappointment hanging over him like a cloud. “I see.”

“To be frank, you still haven’t made up for everything you’ve done.”

He closed his eyes, waiting for her to sever ties with him, to call him a monster and have him thrown in the Palace prison. His heart sped up a tinge. If that happened...

“So, why don’t you help out the next person you come across?”

Eyelids snapping open, he shifted to face her. She was staring at the sky, smile unwavering.

“Then the one after that and so on. Then the next time we meet,” She met his stare, eyes so full of wisdom, he could hardly believe she was three years younger than him. “You won’t have such a brooding look on your face. Only then will I consider forgiving you.”

Sanji was gaping, he knew. He couldn’t help it. Was Vivi..? Was she...?

Pushing off the railing, she headed inside, arms held behind her. “Come on, let’s head back inside. After all, _Luffy_ held off on _eating_ just so all of us could attend. We may as well stick around until the end, don’t you think?”

He wasn’t sure what to make of her words, and yet... “Vivi,” Interlacing his fingers in front of his chest, he allowed his dumbest grin yet to spread across his lips. “Are you falling for me!?”

Vivi stopped walking.

By the time she relented, he had three sizeable bumps on his head. Ahh, she was wonderful even while striking him!

 

(53)

 

After the whole predicament with Bon, Sanji settled against the counter, an unlit cigarette pinned between his thumb and index finger. Sparing the guy had paid off in a way Sanji hadn’t expected. He wasn’t complaining, although, he did wonder if the poor bastard would be okay in Impel Down. Then again, he’d been the second strongest in an organization run by a Shichibukai, so he’d probably be fine. Shouldn’t waste time stressing over it.

Well, that and, he already had a problem to deal with. A problem that was currently smirking at him over a cup of coffee.

He’d already met Nico Robin before all of this. Not only was she the one who’d brought him the Dance Powder assignment in the first place, but he'd also run into her a few times while she was still jumping from crew to crew. Had killed her ‘Captain’ once as well. She’d been real shaken up about it as she handed him the gun and means to do it. That’s part of why he wasn’t sure about this.

Robin survived by using and betraying people. Sanji wouldn’t be able to look the other way if she tried that with Luffy. He didn’t want to fight Robin, partly because he was certain she could snap his neck without breaking a sweat, partly because out of everyone he’d met until the Strawhats, she was in the select group he hated the least. He’d more or less explained this to Zoro when the mosshead pulled him aside earlier, demanding to know what she was up to and why he kept scowling at her like he knew something.

Sighing, he snatched his lighter out of his pocket and lit a cigarette. Mosshead could be pretty perceptive when he wanted. What a pain.

“You do realize, smoking is bad for your health, Sanji,” his problem remarked silkily.

 _The only thing bad for my health at the moment is you,_ he muttered inwardly, however, outwardly he simply snorted, “So, you’ll use my name but not the other’s?”

Like she could read his mind, that smirk of hers deepened, “Why, we do go way back, do we not, _Cook-san?”_

“All right, I take it back that’s fucking weird. Just Sanji is fine.”

She chuckled.

Sanji didn’t understand why all the ladies in his life enjoyed tormenting him.

Resting her chin in an open palm, she said, “You don’t seem to be much better yourself. You didn’t join in on the farewell to the Princess, nor have you seemed to have noticed Navigator-san is avoiding you. I do hope you haven’t been flirting too much.”

“What?” Averting his eyes, he coughed into a fist. “I-I noticed. That. And I haven’t flirted. With her. Recently.”

Because she’d been avoiding him. How in the hell had he not realized that?

“Oh?” she replied, though it sounded more like she was humoring him than anything.

Damn it. Should’ve just changed the subject.

“That reindeer, Doctor-san, is rather cute don’t you think?”

Ah. There it was. He’d noticed the way she kept stealing glances at him.

“No, I—” he broke off, remembering a few of the nights the little guy had made his way into the Galley after a bad dream, then that childish grin he’d wear whenever treated to something sweet. “I guess he is a bit.”

When he wasn’t in Doctor mode, at least. If he found out Sanji was in the Galley instead of resting in bed, he’d receive the whole ‘you could die’ rant from start to finish. He was getting tired of that shitty rant.

Blowing out a mouthful of smoke, he murmured, “Anyways, the hell did you come here for?”

Robin’s peaceful demeanor shifted, becoming more plastered on than natural, “I already told you, did I not? Luffy forced me to live, thus, he has to take responsibility for my continued existence.”

“What kind of shitty logic is that?”

“I feel it’s fairly logical,” she replied, “Is that not why you’re here?”

Sanji considered. “In a way, I guess. I plan on leaving at the next town, though.”

“Oh? What a shame.”

He cast her an annoyed glare before returning to the stove, the water he’d been boiling beginning to drizzle over the sides of the pot.

“And here I thought I could enjoy some more of your cooking.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, then enjoy it while it lasts. You still have a week or so.”

If the next place they arrived at wasn’t in the middle of a warzone or something bizarre. Given their track record.... Then again, what were the odds of that?

“In the direction we’re headed, I believe the next island we’ll arrive at will be Jaya.”

“Jaya!!?” Sanji exclaimed, whirling around and nearly spilling the entire pot of potatoes in the process. “That shitty Pirate haven!!?”

Robin’s smile took a genuine turn at his expense. “That is correct.”

“Shiiiit,” he hissed, running a hand through his bangs. “The island after then. No way in hell I’m setting foot in that hellhole.”

Getting honest fare would be impossible, and with his injuries, killing a bunch of Pirates and ‘borrowing’ their ship would take more out of him than usual. Didn’t even want to think about what navigating the Grand Line by himself would be like. Not worth it.

“Why can’t they just go somewhere normal for once?” he complained.

“Is this a common occurrence? In that case, I guess you’ll be stuck with us for awhile.”

Sanji gave a strangled whine in response. With his luck, he’d be stuck with them forever.


	4. A Battle, a Discovery, and a Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These guys should be tried for Den Den Mushi cruelty. Also, thank you to everyone whose commented so far! I really appreciate it!

(54)

 

It wasn’t until a day passed that he spoke with Nami. Well, she cornered him on his way out of the Galley more like it, herding him inside and shutting the door behind her.

“Wha—?” he started to say, but she’d already yanked something out of her pocket, holding it up for him to see.

“A couple of the guards found this lying beside a pair of busted goggles. It wouldn’t happen to be yours, would it?” she asked, though her eyes held a sharpness to them, as if she already knew the answer to the question.

Considering she was holding his Den Den Mushi, that wasn’t a good sign. It squirmed in her palm, once again, drenched in snail sweat and swiveling its eyestalks around frantically.

Shit. With everything that’d happened, he hadn’t even noticed it was gone. If he didn’t handle this correctly, there were going to be consequences. He had to play this off.

“Uhh,” he pointedly looked away when the Den Den Mushi’s focus snapped to him with something like pleading. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nami. Dear.”

An exaggerated sigh, then she backed away. His chin popped up, skin losing several shades of color at the sight of a sweet smile spreading across Nami’s lips.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I’ll just throw it out. Since we don’t need it and all.”

Heart thumping in his chest, he watched her move to the door, mind a neverending loop of ‘oh shit’s, and ‘just let her throw it out’s. It’s not like he needed it anyw—

Nami’s fingers coiled around the handle.

 _“AH!!_ N-Nami!!”

For a moment, they simply remained still, Nami with her back to him, Sanji with a shaking arm still extended. He had a feeling the look on his face was identical to the Den Den Mushi that’d just been told it would be thrown overboard. At a pace far too slow, her cheek turned enough for the corner of her eye to become visible, then, she whirled around at a speed faster than light, thumb, and index pinched together.

“Well, I guess I could give it to you, at the cheap price of five hundred Berry, that is!”

His jaw fell, part horrified at the prospect of being played so easily, part delighted over the wonderful navigator’s genius intellect. There was a war waging within him, his love of women clashing against his dignity. It wasn’t a long fight, however, considering dignity was something he’d thrown away long ago in his pursuit of beautiful ladies. He had no regrets.

Stuffing a hand into his pocket, he retrieved his wallet, an action that made Nami radiate joy like a beacon of light.

“Nice doing business with ya!” she sang, a tad too eager as she ripped the Berry from his hand, tossing his Den Den Mushi into the air without a beat in between.

He managed to catch it right before the shell smacked into the floor. Usually, this would’ve been the timeframe Nami used to escape, but instead, she slid into a chair at the table, meticulously counting the amount he’d given her. Guess she didn’t trust him. He’d be offended if she didn’t act this way towards everyone when Berry was concerned.

Anyways, now that _that_ was over with, his current position finally clicked in his brain. He was alone with Nami. Nami, who hadn’t looked at him in days, let alone gone out of her way to speak with him. Why tonight?

He made sure to keep a decent amount of space between them as he approached the counter, leaning his hip against it and giving the Den Den Mushi a quick once over. His thumb brushed over the ‘66’ painted across its shell, vibrant and nerve grating as it’d always been. Looked fine. A pity, really.

“What’s that go to, anyways?” Nami asked, almost too offhandedly as she tucked the Berry into her shirt.

He had a feeling the question wasn’t as casual as she’d like him to believe. Shoving the snail into the shell with his thumb, he slipped it into his pocket. Out of sight, out of mind. “Nothing that matters.”

“Oh?” Again, she spoke in a disinterested tone, though made no move to leave, keeping her chin rested on an open palm.

He glanced at the door. Considered running. Besides, if he didn’t fall asleep before Luffy or the mosshead, he’d be kept up all night thanks to their damn snoring. Then again, knowing those two it was already too late.

Exhaling, he ran a hand through his bangs, moving to the refrigerator instead. For whatever reason, Nami was finally talking to him, he may as well make the most of it.

“Want a drink? Tangerine juice, right?”

“Yeah,” she answered, no longer surprised when he casually lists something she likes.

With a nod, he proceeded to pour her a glass, lighting himself a cigarette and plopping into the chair across from her. She stared into the cup, swirling the juice without a word. This went on long enough to make him question whether or not she’d elected to start ignoring him again. Should he ask?

“Na—”

“You—”

They broke off, Nami chewing her lower lip, Sanji letting his mouth hang open like an idiot.

He recovered enough to stammer, “G-Go ahead, Nami.”

Bobbing her head in tune, she returned to her slumped posture, “You kill people for a living.”

“Ah,” He hadn’t been expecting that. Should’ve. Sitting there in silence, he tried to make sense of his jumbled thoughts enough to form a response. Couldn’t, and in the end, gave up, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yeah.”

Nami didn’t bat an eyelash, “How many?”

“Not sure.”

 _That_ got her attention. Pushing herself up straighter, she scoffed, “How could you possibly not know that?”

He shrugged, “Been awhile.”

“How long, exactly?”

“Since I was eleven.”

Nami, who’d made the mistake of trying to take a sip, promptly spat it out again. Jumping out of her seat, she smacked her palms onto the table, eyes having gone wide in horror. “Since you were _eleven!!?”_

He didn’t get what the big deal was. “Yeah.”

“Why!?” she spluttered, then, seemed to realize how insensitive that came out, and murmured, “Uh, I-I mean...”

Sanji tapped his cigarette against an ashtray, flicking the ashes off before taking a long inhale. As he released the smoke from his mouth, he said, “Everyone has things they’re good at.”

She sobered, startled stare taking a somber turn, “Is that so?”

Snagging her cup by the handle, she moved closer, stopping a mere two feet away and leaning on the table. His heartbeat picked up several paces, thumping in his chest so loud he wondered how she didn’t hear.

“Isn’t there anything you want?”

Her words hung in the air, seeming to gain a weight of their own, bearing down on him. He struggled to draw his next breath in, cigarette forgotten despite the scent of tobacco drifting to his nose.

He forced a smile, “I don’t follow, Nami dear.”

“Like a dream. Or a goal. You always act so complacent, like you couldn’t care less no matter what you’re doing or where you are, but there has to be something you’re working towards, isn’t there?”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. The expression he was wearing must’ve been more telling than he’d like because Nami raised a brow at him. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell her about his mission. That was what he wanted, after all. It was.

As he began forming the words, an image flickered in his mind, an ocean filled with every fish imaginable, scales shimmering like diamonds in the clear water, coral of all colors stretching to the surface—just like that textbook had depicted it. Yearning squeezed in his chest, and, on an impulse, he asked, “Have you ever heard of the All Blue?”

Blinking, she tipped her head to the side, “..I think. Isn’t that that mythical ocean? The one where every sea merges? I read about it a bit when I was still studying Cartography.”

“Yeah,” he replied, voice growing breathy with a childlike excitement he hadn’t experienced in decades. It was dumb, unnecessary, but now that he’d started, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “An ocean with every fish imaginable, a chef like me could make all kinds of meals in that place! There hasn’t been concrete proof such a place exists, just old stories from sailors, but if it did....” He’d never find it. Because he was going to die soon.

Shoulders slumping, he averted his gaze. Not like it was real anyways.

“That does sound amazing,” Nami said, startling him in its sincerity.

He almost pulled something in his neck turning to face her. She was grinning at him, hands clasped by her cheek almost dreamily.

“All right! If you ever find a place like that, you’ll have to cook us all a feast, okay!”

“Okay,” he agreed without thinking, “Anything for you.”

“Good!”

Ah, crap!!

Polishing off the last of her drink, she placed the cup in the sink and headed for the door, pausing briefly by the frame.

“It’s a promise, then!” her expression darkened several degrees, “So if you don’t keep your end, I’ll be adding six trillion Berry to your debt.”

Before he could argue he wasn’t searching for it, protest it was a myth, ask when the hell he’d become indebted to her in the first place, she slid outside and closed the door behind her, leaving just as swiftly as she’d arrived. Now what?

With a sigh, he discarded what was left of his cigarette. Whatever. Guess he’d do some dishes.

 

(55)

 

“You’ve read that?”

“You did suggest it to me, did you not?” Robin said, smiling in earnest.

She’d been doing that a lot lately. It was weird.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “But I didn’t think you’d actually read it, you usually stick to those fucked up horror novels.”

“It’s good to try something new every now and then, Sanji,” she replied, and for some reason, it sounded a bit like a scolding. “Have you read the books I recommended to you last time?”

“Uhh,” He hated horror novels. Especially the kind she read, they always had tragic endings. “No, not yet.”

Her smile deepened. “I guess I have no choice then,” Without another word, she ducked into her and Nami’s shared room, leaving him standing in the hallway twiddling his thumbs like a moron. A minute later, she returned with a giant stack of books, shoving them into his arms despite his protests.

“I do expect you to have all of these read before the week is over.”

Sanji could feel himself dying a little on the inside as he stared at the worn book on top, painted in such a way, it appeared blood had splattered across the cover.

Robin looked on unrepentantly.

 

(56)

 

“Huh. ‘In an act of terrorism, a group of unknown assailants shipped several dead bodies to Marineford.’” With a sigh, Nami passed the newspaper to Robin. “Can you believe that? Honestly, the nerve of some people!”

Robin chuckled.

Sanji and Usopp looked away, whistling low notes beneath their breaths.

 

(57)

 

“The hell happened to you?” Sanji remarked, studying the bruises along Zoro’s cheeks and the dried blood on his upper lip.

They’d only been in Mock Town for half an hour, how in the hell had he and Luffy ended up in such a state?

“Nothing happened,” he answered, flopping onto the deck and laying his head on his arms.

Clearly, _something_ had happened. “What, some lowlife punk get the upper hand on you? I knew you were pretty pathetic, but I didn’t think you were _that_ weak, Marimo.”

His eyes popped open, apathy vanishing in place of annoyance, “The hell did you just say!?”

Unfazed, Sanji crossed his arms, “Anyone I need to kill?”

With a snort, he slumped onto the deck once more. “As if.”

 

(58)

 

Sanji was pissed once Skypiea was said and done. Not only had they elected not to tell him they were going nor how (a move he suspected was intentional), he’d almost died again, this time saving Usopp, who was responding to that sentiment by being mousy as hell around him. It was annoying. He couldn’t figure out if it was some kind of guilt factor or if the sniper had finally lost it. Could be both, though he was leaning towards the latter.

That’s why, when Usopp approached him, posture of someone doing the same with an extremely hazardous bomb, Sanji couldn’t decide if he wanted to slap him or smoke through an entire pack of cigarettes.

“U-Um, Sanji,” He stammered, voice low and unsure, “T-There’s something I need to ask you about....”

Sighing, long hard, he went for the cigarette option, not replying until he had one lit. “Yeah? Talk.”

Usopp’s spine shot ramrod straight, a confidence so forced Sanji wondered how he managed to fool anyone.

“S-So, I’ve been thinking for awhile, and I was wondering, well, actually, it all started with a bunch of giant serial killer werewolves, you see, then I—”

“Usopp,”

“Y-Yes?”

“The hell are you saying to me?”

Slouching in defeat, he muttered, “W-Well... I.... was... just... W-What’s it like to.. k-kill someone?”

If Sanji hadn’t frozen solid, he might have choked on his cigarette.

Usopp slumped onto the deck, legs crisscrossed, head down, “It’s just.... I’m not like you, or Luffy or Zoro. I’m not even like Nami and Chopper. Actually, I’m kind of useless, aren’t I?” Swallowing, his fingers dug into the fabric of his pants, “W-Whenever I think about seriously hurting someone my knees start knocking together and I... just freeze up. Compared to Luffy and Zoro.. a-and to you, I should just—” he cut himself off, going quiet for several heartbeats before adding in a cheerful tone, “Well, I was just wondering is all! Not a big deal!”

Sanji had absolutely no idea what was happening or how to handle it. When he didn’t respond, Usopp began babbling.

“Y-You see, I know sometimes you gotta, and I’m sure my old man has done it a lot, so it can’t be _that bad,_ right? Plus, Zoro—”

“Usopp,”

“Y-Yes?”

An image of his old self flashed through his mind, grinning at a tiny rat as it chowed away at bits of a sandwich. “I think you’re fine as you are.”

Usopp opened his mouth, stared, closed it, then shot to his feet, palms raised between them as he backed away. “R-Right, o-of c-c-course, I wasn’t suggesting—I was just curious, is all!! A-Anyways, sorry for taking up your time! See ya!”

He bolted around the corner, disappearing below deck if Sanji had to guess. For a moment, Sanji stared after him, unsure what to do and whether he’d messed up. If Usopp’s reaction was anything to go by, he probably had. Damn it.

Why hadn’t he gone to Robin or mosshead with this? Then again, Robin joined the crew only recently, and Zoro was.... Zoro. And it’s not like the rest were any better, either, Luffy probably would’ve tried to feed him a steak or something since he seems to believe it’s a magical cure-all, and the rest had never killed anyone. That meant _Sanji_ was the approachable one. He needed out. Soon as possible. This was all kinds of wrong.

“Sanji!!”

He jumped about a foot into the air. Was pretty worried someone else had decided to have a weird whatever that’d been with him, until Luffy skidded around the corner, grinning so widely he couldn’t help but relax.

“I’m starving!!”

Sighing, he flicked his cigarette overboard, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

 

(59)

 

Usopp’s mood worsened after their run in with Aokiji. Sanji noted it, however, was a bit preoccupied with the fact Robin had nearly died in front of him. It’d been half a day since, and he still didn’t know what to make of it. He’d never seen her that riled up before, never seen her that _reckless._ No, Robin always had the upper hand. Calm, collected, never allowing her emotions to show, nor to sway her decisions. This was wrong, and he hated it. He’d never seen her this vulnerable.

If only that marine bastard had kept his mouth shut. If Sanji saw him again—

Shoving away the murderous thoughts, he refocused, instead, recalling everything she’d told him of Ohara. Wasn’t much, but he’d caught a few slivers during their discussions of ‘whose life was the shittiest.’ It was a game they’d taken to playing after she’d found him dying in a ditch. He’d been what... sixteen? Fifteen? Hell, it didn’t matter. After she’d patched him up, they’d started going back and forth. Never stopped, either. Not really.

So far, the only things involving Ohara she’d mentioned were her aunt, the kids bullying her, and something called a Buster Call. He was still kind of hazy as to what a Buster Call entailed, though, hadn’t bothered to look it up. Felt too much like invading her privacy.

Cloth rustling behind him drew his focus, and he craned his neck to peer at Robin over his shoulder. She was staring blankly at the ceiling, shivering having stopped, skin glowing a faint gray in the dim lighting. He figured it was time for another round.

“I got lectured by mosshead,” he said, “Twice.”

Blinking, her gaze drifted to him, lingered, then trailed away, mouth tipping up just a tinge. “I got chewed out by Doctor-san yesterday for a morbid comment on Sniper-san’s health.”

“Hah, that’s nothing! I got bedridden by him after Alabasta, and when he caught me doing dishes in the Galley instead of sleeping, he chased me around the Merry throwing things at me the rest of the night. Think he takes after that crazy Granny of his.”

“I was once hospitalized for an entire week.

 _“Two_ weeks.”

“Suffered severe burns down my arms.”

“Been stabbed through.”

“I want to stay with this crew.”

His heart clenched. Resisting the urge to pull his knees to his chest, he murmured, “Can’t relate. Guess you win this round.”

A chuckle, soft, breathy, “We’re not supposed to lie, Sanji.”

He didn’t look at her, though the sound of fabric shifting hinted she’d rolled over. He wondered if that was okay in her condition. Should he ask Chopper?

Rather than the Doctor, he turned to Luffy, who was sprawled across the mattress on his stomach, blankets long since kicked off, snores blending with Zoro’s. On second thought, she’d probably be fine.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the uneasy pit in his stomach.

 

(60)

 

Being in Water Seven again was nostalgic, to say the least. It was the first place he’d visited outside of Germa, not to mention, a nice town in general if you looked passed the slums. Actually, it used to be a lot worse, didn’t it?

The mayor, Icecube or whatever, must’ve made a lot of reforms. No dumbasses trying to bum smokes off everyone, no shady dealings in dark alleys, no eyes on his back, as though planning to mug him. It was a refreshing change, though, at the time, he’d found this place to be a safe haven. He hadn’t realized how messed up that was until now. Whatever.

Rather than think about it, he focused on his list, making sure to buy every single item he’d added to it. Spices, herbs, fruits—all the things Luffy wouldn’t consider in a million years. As for meat, they could always fish off the side or kill a Sea King. Not a big deal.

After that was over with, he returned to the Merry, still empty besides for the napping Marimo, and prepared several dishes, storing them in the fridge along with a note detailing how to heat them properly. Nami could handle that part.

Pulling down the sleeves he’d rolled up to his elbows, he glanced at the notepad. Considered leaving a letter. Then again, that would make it harder, wouldn’t it? Better to leave without saying anything.

Besides, he’d already practically filled the thing with recipes for them anyways, another note on top of that would be overkill.

In the spirit of that, he strolled out of the Galley, refusing to look back even when he vaulted the railing and disappeared into town.

 

(61)

 

Leaving was easy in some ways, yet hard in others. On one hand, it’s not like he had any belongings to lug around, on the other, he _didn’t have any belongings._ Didn’t even have the luxury of ‘borrowing’ clothes from his friends anymore.

And he’d thought earlier was nostalgic, now, laying on a shitty mattress in a shitty hotel room, he could almost imagine he’d never met the Strawhats in the first place. Almost.

The heavy silence hanging over him like a veil was enough to shatter the illusion. No yelling, no arguing, no snoring, no brawling. Nothing.

He didn’t get why this bothered him. It’s not like the Merry had been a five-star passenger ship. In reality, it was a rickety, leaky, patch job that could stop functioning at any given moment. Had stopped functioning. Sometimes in the middle of a shower. Damn, he’d hated that.

There. That’s something he didn’t miss. If he focused on the things that’d bothered him, leaving would be a breeze. Yeah. That was the plan.

 

(62)

 

The plan didn’t work. Well, to be more precise, Luffy threw a giant monkey wrench into it, set it on fire, then scattered what remained on the breeze. He had no way to confirm this was Luffy’s fault, but screw it, he was blaming him anyways! Who the hell else could’ve caused such a mess!?

Glaring down at the paper, he scanned the words: ‘ **WANTED,’** along with the bounty pictures of Luffy, Zoro, and Robin that followed. The hell had they gotten into while he was gone!? Why did everyone want them dead!?

Almost too furious to focus, he forced himself read the article included, pausing, rereading, realizing he didn’t understand a word of it.

‘Strawhat Pirate’s

‘Iceberg shot in bedroom’

‘A manhunt for—’

Stopping there, he started from the beginning. Then, again and again. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up.

Who shot Icecube? Surely it couldn’t—

She wouldn’t—

She said—

Fingers digging into the newspaper with such force, they were practically gouging through, Robin’s words replayed in his ears, _“I want to stay with this crew.”_

The paper crumpled.

“I thought you said we weren’t supposed to lie.”

 

(63)

 

Returning to the Merry so soon after leaving may have been embarrassing if the crew was actually there. Instead, he found Usopp hammering several boards to the side, covered in bruises and bandages. Had Robin done this too?

Edging closer, he studied the guy closer, the blood crusted to his upper lip, his swollen cheek and filthy arms. No. Robin was neater than this. Looks like he got into a fist fight.

Wait, if Usopp was hurt, then where was Chopper? Where was everyone else?

“Hey,” he said, surprising himself with how raw it came out.

When Usopp didn’t reply, he jabbed him in the ribs with his knee.

“OW!!” Usopp yelped, scooting several paces away with a hand over his side, “H-Hold up, y-you bastard, I don’t know who you are—” he broke off at the sight of Sanji’s scowl.

“Eh, uh... Sanji? W-What’re you—?” his expression darkened, an almost ravenous tone entering his voice, “If you’re here to pity me or whatever then just get the hell out!!”

“‘Pity’ you?” Sanji echoed, “The hell are you talking about?”

To his credit, Usopp seemed genuinely surprised, “They didn’t tell you?”

“What?”

“Well...”

Usopp talked while he worked, rambling on about all kinds of bullshit, the Merry being called irreparable, losing their Berry to the Franky family, Usopp challenging Luffy for ownership of the Merry and leaving the crew. Sanji needed a smoke when they reached that part. Two of them. By the time he’d finished, Sanji was reaching for a third.

“But they’re wrong!” Usopp insisted, “The Merry is fine! They’re just giving up too soon!”

Sanji wasn’t sure what to say. If he recalled correctly, the Merry had been a gift from Usopp’s girlfriend, hadn’t it? Jealousy aside, this ship was sentimental to him, he guessed. If a girl had given Sanji something, he knew he’d want to cherish it. Still, wasn’t attacking Luffy a bit overboard?

“So,” Usopp went on, tone oddly blank, “You should go find them. They’re probably at a hotel by now. You used to be an assassin, right? I’m sure you can find them, no problem.”

“I’m still an assassin. And, I’m leaving the crew too,” Sanji murmured, studying the storm clouds lining up the horizon.

Usopp whirled around fast enough to nearly faceplant, “What!? Seriously!? Wait, you’re not leaving because of me, are you!!?”

“No, I left yesterday morning,” As an afterthought, he added, “Though, after everything that’s happened, It’s not a surprise no one noticed.”

Shock vanishing in place of agitation, Usopp dropped his hammer, stomping over and grabbing Sanji by the collar—a sentiment not appreciated one bit, considering he’d just bought this shirt, damn it.

“What the hell are you saying!!? You left the crew!? Seriously!? After everything we’ve been through!?”

“I never planned on staying.” Sanji grit out, resisting the urge to knock his friend off.

“No!! Listen to me!! Don’t you get it!!? From here on out, our enemies are only going to keep getting stronger!! They _need_ you, Sanji!! You’re not a wimp like me!!”

“Hah!!?” Sanji, in turn, snagged Usopp by the front of his overalls, looming over him until their faces were inches apart. “You’re _still_ on about that shit? You really think Luffy and the others care about crap like that!!?”

“I know they don’t!!” Usopp snapped, voice raising to a yell that filled the empty space, “That’s why I have to go on my own!! Otherwise, I’ll only keep dragging them down!!”

Jerking away, Usopp turned and stomped over to the Merry again, back facing him.

“That’s not how it works, Usopp!!” Sanji tried. But, hell, wasn’t that how it worked? Isn’t that why the bastard hated him? Because he was useless to him? Because he’d only dragged the family down? Shit. The hell was he supposed to do? Lie to Usopp?

“That’s not...” he started again, “That’s..”

Usopp didn’t say anything, slumping onto the ground. Sanji stared for several beats, then copied him, pulling his knees into his chest and lighting a cigarette. The smell of tobacco wafting to his nose didn’t do much for his mood.

Why did everything always have to go wrong?

“Hey!”

It’d barely been a day, and yet...

“Lis’sen up!!”

Robin, Usopp, even the Merry....

“I’m here to kidnap you!!”

Everybody had—wait, what?

For the first time, he noticed a shadow bearing down on him from the railing of the Merry, as did Usopp, considering how fast he scurried backward. When he reached Sanji’s shoulder, he miraculously gained an awful lot of confidence, jabbing his hammer at the guy.

“Hey, get off of the Merry, or else he’ll kick your ass!!” he yelled with a gesture to Sanji.

“Oh? That so?” With a smirk, the guy flipped his sunglasses up in an exaggerated motion that reminded him of Ichiji.

“You heard the guy,” Sanji snapped, temper spiking, “Get the hell off of there!”

“Sure thing,” he replied, stepping off the ship and landing several feet away.

Two figures followed, landing behind him in ridiculous poses. He was so distracted by their box-shaped hair, he barely registered when the guy cracked his knuckles.

“Hey, there, longnose. I’m here to beat the hell outta ya again. And your friend too.”

Sanji tipped his head, acknowledging. “Oh?”

“This actually makes things super convenient for me,” his smirk widened, “If I just beat the both of you up and take one of ya, the guy I leave behind can do the honors of relaying my message to the rest of your pals, right?”

Sanji didn’t appreciate the assumption he could beat either of them. Then again, now that he got a better look at him, this was Franky, wasn’t it? Leader of the Franky Family. That meant he was the bastard who pummeled Usopp and took the Strawhat’s Berry.

Drawing a knife, he reflected, it would be fine if he killed this one. Wouldn’t it? He’d caused them an awful lot of trouble, so he didn’t see why Luffy would mind. Probably wanted to kick the guy’s ass himself. Yeah. It should be fine.

“Strong right!!” Franky yelled, literally shooting his fist at Sanji, a chain linking it to his elbow.

A cyborg? Those existed!?

Sanji jumped to the side, narrowly dodging, then slung a knife at the girl to Franky’s left. She moved her head out of the way, arms tucked over her chest.

“Ha! I wouldn’t do that if I were you! The last time someone attacked us, Big bro went on a rampage!”

“Why you—!!” On cue, Franky drew his weird as hell hand back, reattaching it then popping his knuckles open. “Don’t you dare attack Kiwi and Mozu!!”

Gunfire lit up the spot Sanji had been standing, one scraping his cheek as he darted to the side, another his shoulder. Probably would’ve been worse, if a hammer hadn’t smacked into Franky’s jaw, a loud _THUNK_ resounding over the clearing. For a moment, everyone simply stared, Franky with his head still tipped to the side, Sanji with his mouth hanging open. Even Usopp looked horrified, expression mirroring Kiwi and Mozu’s until their gazes shifted to him.

“Y-Yeah!!” he shouted, jabbing a thumb at himself, “A-And there’s more where that came from!!”

Franky glared at him.

Usopp vanished from sight, reappearing behind a rock about a yard away. “I’m sorry!”

How in the hell—? Ah, screw it, he didn’t have time to rationalize that out.

Darting forward, he planted a hand on the ground, throwing his weight into a kick aimed for Franky’s head. Instead of ducking, Franky blocked with his arm, sending bolts of pain up Sanji’s ankle, along with another loud clang.

“Shi—”

Franky brought his free hand down on him, smashing into his stomach without an ounce of restraint. Reminded him of his brother’s punches. He’d forgotten how bad that hurt.

He crashed into the dirt, ribs creaking painfully, hell, probably cracking. He didn’t have a chance to recover before a foot slammed into his side, sending him skidding away.

“Ah!! Sanji!!”

Distantly, he noted Franky calling for something. Then, his body crashed into a rock and everything went black.

 

(64)

 

When he woke up, it was to a ruddy fabric inches from his face and an ache in his ribs. Shifting, his fingers dug into it, pushing his tired body to his knees. A couch? But, where—

“Ah, so you’re up already, huh?”

Sanji flinched, fingers flying for the knives stashed in his shirt only to find it gone, replaced with a layer of bandages trailing all the way from his neck to his waist. The hell!?

“Welcome to the Franky Families _super_ secret hideout!”

Chin snapping up, he locked eyes with Franky, who was sitting on the couch two cushions away, a bottle of cola in his hand and a knee slung over the other. Damn bastard was underestimating him! Sanji was about to wipe that smug grin off his face when a familiar voice stopped him.

“Hey! Sanji!!”

He followed it, locating Usopp by the.... Merry? How had the Merry gotten inside—? No, nevermind, he didn’t want to know. At least, Usopp was alive. That was something.

“You okay!?”

“Yeah,” Sanji muttered with a glare at Franky. “And you?”

“What? Me!? Of course, I’m fine!”

Sanji refused to allow himself relief, scooting away until his back was pressed against the armrest.

“You should show us a little more appreciation,” Franky said, though he didn’t sound bothered, “If it wasn’t for your pal over there, I would’ve left you to be swallowed up by Aqua Laguna.”

“‘Aqua Laguna?’” It was that time of year already?

“Yeah, that’s right. I was gonna ditch you in an alleyway in town or something, but he wouldn’t shut up about it, so I just kidnapped ya as well.”

Sanji stared uncomprehendingly. How had this moron beaten him?

“Anyways, you have Mozu to thank for those bandages there. You know, the girl you chucked a knife at.” he said, rubbing his metallic nose with a freakishly large thumb, “Eh, but we’ve already forgiven you for that. You’re buddy told us all about it....”

Sanji narrowed his eyes. Told him? Told him what?

A sniffle and with a jolt, Sanji realized the guy was sobbing.

“He told me all about how your father beats you!! I’m so sorry for hitting you back there!! UWAAH!!”

His father!? Did he mean the bastard!? As shitty as he was, he hadn’t hit him! Why in the—

Behind Franky, Sanji noticed Usopp flash him a thumbs up, an almost triumphant gleam to him. He didn’t...

Out of nowhere, the woman from earlier popped up, also sobbing loudly.

“It’s completely understandable for you to be so on edge all the time!!”

“We’re so sorry!! You poor thing!!”

....That bastard.

“Wait. No. Stop crying.” Sanji said, mind clicking off.

Thankfully, this time it actually worked, Franky dabbing his eyes with a hanky. “Shut up, you jerk! I’m not crying!!”

“And neither are we!!” The girls wailed in sync.

Sanji didn’t know how to deal with this.

 

(65)

 

It was official, he hated those CP9 bastards. He’d left for only a minute to get his stuff, and yet, by the time he’d gotten back, they were having some kind of standoff by the Merry. Not wasting a second, Sanji ducked behind the corner, reigning in his breathing and crouching low.

Lots of names were being tossed around out there, Cutty Flam, some Tom guy, something about Icecube, then Franky got pissed and presumably taken down.

Peeking, he confirmed his suspicion, studying the hot blonde towering over him, some kind of barbed wire in her hands. It’d taken her no less than an instant. Sanji didn’t like that. He doubted she was the strongest of the bunch, either. No way he could take them down on his own.

His gaze drifted to Usopp, who was shaking like a leaf, hand clutching something. Wait. What was he...?

Gritting his teeth, Usopp’s arms shot up, slingshot posed as though to fire. “Hey, hold on just a sec!! Let him go!!”

No!! That moron!!

Resisting the urge to yank his hair out, he ducked behind his cover again, forcing his itching legs to remain in place. If he went out there, he’d get himself caught too! Several thuds, a yell, the sound of rushing water, and when he looked again, the Merry was being thrown down a waterfall-like current, vanishing out of sight to the sound of Usopp’s pained screams. Shit.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed himself against the wall, wanting to light a cigarette, knowing if he did, the smell could give him away. He needed to get out of here. They were professionals, if he hung around much longer, he’d be spotted for sure, and tailing them was out of the question.

It’s not like he needed to anyways. He didn't understand why they were taking Usopp, but from how they were talking, it sounded like they intended to leave Water Seven, and as of now, there was only one way out. If he beat them there and stowed away on the sea train....

Yeah, then he could sneak Usopp—and Franky if he’s feeling generous—into one of the railcars and detach it. If he could think of some way to contact the others, some way to tell them what was happening...

Slowly, he lowered a hand into his pocket, pulling it out with a certain Den Den Mushi clasped within it. This was a risky move. If Nami didn’t find it, he could lose his only link to Germa.

No, he couldn’t think about that. Nami knew what it looked like, knew it was important, and if Sanji had learned anything after spending time with them, it was that Luffy never abandoned his crew. Trusted them unconditionally. He wouldn’t take Robin’s betrayal lying down, would probably go after her demanding answers.

And if Robin wanted to get out of town before the storm hit....

They were all heading to the same place. Whether they’d make it in time, he had no clue, so for now, all he could do was leave a way to contact them behind and hope for the best.

 

(66)

 

Nami did find it, in the end. He never should’ve doubted her, not even for a moment! She was so amazing and wonderful! He swooned at the sound of her voice, not caring that he was currently on top of a moving train, a certain pair of morons not far behind. Even when she yelled at him to get serious, he wasn’t bothered. It wasn’t until she mentioned Robin that he sobered, and when she told him about the deal Robin had made, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut by Franky again.

“She sacrificed herself for you guys?” he murmured, the words feeling foreign. “Why would she...?”

“Isn’t that great!?” Nami exhaled, relief flowing from the transceiver in waves. “She didn’t betray us, after all!” A brief pause and he could almost imagine her holding up a fist. “Now, all we have to do is get her back from those guys!”

“‘Get her back?’” Sanji echoed numbly, “You want to..?”

“Of course, Robin’s our friend!” she insisted, reminding him of Luffy. “We’re the Strawhat Pirates! We never abandon our comrades!”

“H-Hold on!!” palms slick with either rain or sweat, he drew the transceiver closer. “This is the World Government we’re up against! This isn’t just some opposing army, if you piss them off then it’s not just them you’ll be up against, but the entire world!!”

“So what?”

Now, it was Luffy, the Den Den Mushi imitating a serious scowl. Sanji reeled back.

“World Government? Entire world?” A scoff and his voice grew louder, “I don’t give a crap about any of that! Robin is _my_ crewmate!”

Around him, time seemed to slow, rain hitting the train at such a rate, it was almost as excruciating as the heart slamming against his bruised ribs. Just like when they’d met, Luffy wasn’t boasting nor was he trying to prove himself. He claimed Robin as though it was a simple truth. Robin, along with the rest of the crew were his, end of question. In the face of such unwavering confidence, what could he even say?

“Sanji,” Luffy murmured, “Robin’s your friend, isn’t she?”

Sanji opened his mouth, stopped, mulled it over. Remembered her reading on the deck with a soft smile, lounging in his latest hideout like she belonged there, teasing him when he’d demanded how she’d found him, ruffling his hair, always trying his cooking. “Yeah,” he answered, barely aware he was speaking. “I wanna save her.”

Luffy’s tone softened, “Then do it. Honestly, Sanji, you can be so dumb sometimes.”

Franky was sobbing, but Sanji hardly heard him, grip tightening on the transceiver to such an extent, he was practically breaking through it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, words coming out choked. “I’ll definitely bring her back.”

A toothy grin spread across the Den Den Mushi’s face. “Good! Go, kick their asses!”

 

(67)

 

“What’re you going to do?”

If Usopp heard he showed no sign, too busy staring holes into the train beneath them. Couldn’t blame him. This toppled with the fact he’d been rescued again would do a number on anyone. Sanji had known this would likely be the outcome. Hadn’t cared at the time, nor did he now. Hurt pride was better than being thrown in Impel Down, or wherever the hell else CP9 had planned on taking him.

“Such a touching story!!” Franky continued to cry, strumming away at a guitar two sizes too small for him.

While he was talking to Luffy, Sanji had been able to ignore it, but it was seriously freaking him out, and he wished Franky would stop. He’d never met someone who cried this much.

“H-Hey...” Sanji tried, feebly outstretching a hand to him.

“I’m not crying!! Shut up!!” he said, tone thick and raw from all the crying he was most definitely doing. “I’ve made up my mind!!” He sniffed, far too loudly, “I, Franky, head of the Franky Family will lend you all a hand!!”

Sanji tuned him out right as he started rambling on about Robin getting caught being problematic for him as well, more concerned over Usopp, who was staggering to the drop between two railcars.

“I’m not going,” he spoke softly, and yet, his voice easily carried despite the storm raging around them. “I wanna save her too but... I already left the crew! I’m not like you. I can’t just go back after everything I said!”

“What do you—” Franky started, but Sanji cut him off.

“Leave him be.”

“Wha—!? Jeez, talk about stuck up.”

Not a minute later, the ‘mysterious Sniper King’ made his appearance, theme song and all. It was completely ridiculous, annoying, embarrassing as hell, and yet....

“Hey Sniper King, think you could get me a mask as well?”

After all, he didn’t want the World Government to see his face.

 

(68)

 

To say the rescue attempt went bad was an understatement. Not only had Robin recognized them both instantly, the fact he’d been there had made her angrier for some reason. She refused to escape with them, left with CP9 of her own will, hurt Usopp. He didn’t understand. Not until door guy hung back long enough to explain what a Buster Call was.

Sanji was furious. Getting angry for someone else, this was a first for him, and to be frank, he’d never been this worked up over anything before. Not even when he’d accepted the bastard intended to leave him in that cell to rot. Using Robin’s greatest fear against her.... No, could he really say he was mad for her sake? This situation was far too similar to his and the bastard’s deal. Then again, the bastard didn’t care enough to come after him as long as he laid low, but with Robin....

Sanji punched the thing closest to him, which happened to be the wall. A loud creak, his fist burying several inches into metal, he reiterated; he wasn’t just mad, no, he wanted to kill every single one of CP9! She hadn’t done anything wrong!!

He stayed that way for a while, pacing, cursing, lighting a cigarette only to abandon it. Usopp wisely kept his distance, Franky, on the other hand, had already tried to calm him numerous times. It wouldn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t. Even after Luffy showed up with the others, the anxious energy building up remained, though he tried harder to reel it in. Save it for the first CP9 scumbag he got his hands on.

“WOAH!!” Luffy was yelling, him and Chopper practically glowing. “A REAL HERO!!”

Sanji wished he was surprised.

“I knew right when I saw his cape!!”

“Wearing a cape means he’s a hero!? That’s so cool!!”

In sync, their awed gazes swiveled to him.

“He doesn’t have a cape, but he has a mask,” Chopper exclaimed, “Does that mean he’s a hero too!?”

“Hah, of course, it does!” Usopp yelled far louder than necessary, jabbing a thumb at him. “This, young friends, is my sidekick! Knife guy!”

Sanji promptly planted his knee in Usopp’s gut. Usopp crumpled.

Luffy gasped, “Knife guy!!?”

“SO AWESOME!!”

“No, it’s just me,” he said, “Sanji.”

_“Sanji!!?”_

“Why didn’t you tell us you were a hero’s sidekick!!?”

“Wow!! That’s even cooler!!”

Behind his mask, he could feel his cheeks heating up. This was too much.

Zoro planted a hand on his shoulder. “Nice to meet you,” a smirk, “Knife guy.”

“Shut up!!”

“So, what exactly happened here?” Nami asked, changing the subject.

Ah, she was so glorious—

Her serious expression became shadowed, “Knife guy.”

Betrayal!! He slumped onto the floor, depression hanging over him like a cloud. “Nami.... why...”

Luffy laughed and Sanji, despite knowing he had no idea what the joke was, wanted to deck him. This wasn’t fair!!

 

(69)

 

Although he hated the mask, he stood proud alongside the crew, unrepentant even as Robin yelled at them, pleaded with Sanji to stop them, as Usopp shot the World Government’s flag down. He didn’t understand what he’d been so afraid of. Robin, seemed to be having a similar thought, tears racing down her cheeks as she finally declared what she’d wanted all along.

_“I want to live!!”_

 

(70)

 

He made quick work of the blonde woman, then of the wolf. By the time he’d reunited with Robin, things had gotten worse, battleships surrounding them, marines charging, Luffy fighting somewhere by himself. He didn’t get a chance to speak with her until it was over, ships sinking in the whirlpool courtesy of him closing the gate, that annoying weasel getting what had to be the fiercest clutch Robin had ever delivered. Sanji had seen a lot of violence in his life, and he still cringed. Hoped he was never on the receiving end of that.

After things settled down, she was the one to approach him, sliding off his mask and planting a kiss on his forehead. If that had been Nami, surely he would’ve deteriorated into a whirlwind of hearts, but seeing as it was _Robin,_ he cringed harder than before. It was like being kissed by his sister!

She pulled away with a loud, hearty, laugh at the horrified expression on his face.

Nice to know nothing had changed between them.

 

(71)

 

Usopp was being stubborn, and it was bugging the hell out of him. After returning to Water Seven, Sanji wasn’t content to leave things as they were, so he’d spent the past two days gravitating between Usopp and the rest of the crew, trying to convince Usopp to forget about his pride for once. This was getting ridiculous. As if that wasn’t bad enough, after another botched attempt, he’d returned to the Galley-La Company only to find it swarmed by marines and a giant hole in the wall. Not a good sign. Yet, strangely enough, there were no sounds of fighting. Had they been ambushed that badly?

Ducking behind the fence, he trailed around to the back of the building, hopping over with ease, then sticking to the sides. Stopped outside the dining room’s window, where two figures were already crouched and wait a second—

“Usopp!!?”

Usopp jumped about a foot in the air, whirling around and frantically shushing him. The frog merely tipped its head to the side.

“I thought you weren’t going to apologize.”

“Ah, uh, I’m not!! Besides, there’s more important matters at hand right now!!”

“Riiiight,” he said, creeping closer, “Let me guess, you figured they’d accept you back if you busted in there by yourself and played the hero.”

The look on Usopp’s face told him he’d hit it right on the mark.

Rolling his eyes, he stopped by the window Usopp was peering through. “So what’s the situation inside?”

“I’m not completely sure,” he hummed, finally snapping out of it, “But apparently, that marine is Luffy’s grandfather.”

 _“What!!?”_ Sanji blurted out, resulting in the frog _and_ Usopp slapping a hand over his mouth.

“SHHH!! Shush, shush, shush!!”

What the hell!!? His grandfather was a marine!? Wait, wasn’t that....

Jerking away, he shouted, “GARP!!?”

Usopp tackled him in another bout of frantic shushing. “They’ll hear you, moron!! Be more quiet!!”

“But Garp—” he rambled, voice muffled by his Usopp’s palm, “Luffy—”

“I know, I know, it’s insane! To think his grandfather would be a marine hero.”

Usopp let him up when he’d calmed down a little. Well, more like, when he’d fallen into a stunned silence. With a final shush, he scooted to the window again, peeking inside.

“They were saying something pretty strange right before you showed up.”

Sanji couldn’t imagine what could be stranger than this, yet, crawled closer anyways, joining Usopp.

“What? So he didn’t tell you?” The geezer was saying, a finger shoved up his nose.

Yeah. That was definitely Luffy’s grandfather.

“Your father told me he saw you off at Loguetown.”

“Luffy’s father?” Sanji mumbled beneath his breath. “In Loguetown?”

That was a crazy coincidence. Wonder what he’d been up to there?

“My father!?” Luffy said, seeming every bit as shocked as they were. “W-What’s he like!?”

“Huh? Ah, your father’s name is Monkey D. Dragon, he’s a revolutionary.”

Beside him, Usopp yelled and fell over. As to what he’d been screaming, Sanji had no idea. His hearing had gone out.

He’d misunderstood. He must’ve. Luffy’s father—

His—

No. No way.

That—

This was—

Barely aware he was moving at all, Sanji stood, legs swaying, pulse hammering in his ears. He took a step closer, staggered, took several back, then, without a word of explanation, turned and bolted.

“Ah!? Sanji!!”

Sanji didn’t answer, shoving his way through the crowd of marines and out the gate. As he ran, his hand slid into his pocket, fingers clamping around the shell of his Den Den Mushi, yanking it out. He skidded to a stop at the coastline, drew his arm back, ready to chuck the damned thing into the ocean and be done with it for good. Heart sped up until it was all he could hear, all he knew, arm began shaking.

 _‘Sanji, from today forth, I’ll allow you to leave this cellar,’_ a voice echoed in his brain, _‘But there’ll be conditions.’_

The muscles in his arm screamed.

_‘From here on out, you’ll do whatever I say,’_

He couldn’t breathe.

_‘Carry out any mission given to you,’_

Just throw it!!

_‘But don’t get the wrong idea,’_

Sanji’s knees buckled, Den Den Mushi clattering uselessly onto the ground at his side.

_‘I don’t consider you my child. You’re the one thing in this world I’m ashamed of.’_

His eyes felt hot. Really hot. The heat trickled down his cheeks, falling from his chin, and it was only when drops of water smacked the dirt by his hands that he realized he was crying.

“This is... too much!! Damn it!!”

 

(72)

 

Sanji felt empty. He didn’t return that night, nor the next, the weight in his pocket heavier than it’d ever been. Didn’t bother Usopp, didn’t check on Luffy, didn’t seek out Robin. Just wanted to be left alone. He’d thought it over. A bit. His mission. He was still going to do it. Stopping was impossible. He couldn’t do that. He.... If he... If he stuck with Luffy, Dragon would show up eventually, wouldn’t he? When he thought of it like that, he was able to return, albeit, he kept to himself. Didn’t answer where he’d been. Didn’t talk. Not when Zoro started hassling him, not when Chopper asked if he was okay.

He hated this. Didn’t want to be here. Couldn’t even look at Luffy.

When he was shown a bounty poster titled ‘Knife Guy,’ he barely reacted, only taking it from Nami’s hands and wondering why life hated him. It seemed like no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried, everything always blew up in his face. He was tired. Should stop thinking.

Kept up that mentality through the Florian Triangle, to Sabaody, to the Auction House. Killed Absalom, killed anybody who got in his way, really, resulting in several one-sided arguments between him and Zoro—one-sided meaning he sat in silence while the guy yelled at him. Demanded what had gotten into him, as if Zoro himself gave a shit about taking lives. But, this was how he’d always been, wasn’t it? It was only around them he’d started acting strangely.

Ah. Whatever. He wished Dragon would show up already.

 

(73)

 

Sanji stared at the newspaper blankly, at the tattoo on Luffy’s shoulder. Three ‘D’ crossed out, then two ‘Y.’ Three days, two years. Huh.

“Well!?” Iva demanded for what had to be the hundredth time, shoving the poster of ‘Knife Guy’ in his face. “Are you this guy or are you not?”

Sanji recoiled in disgust. Nowadays, that horrid abomination was the only thing capable of spurring a reaction out of him. Despite this, he forced himself to look at it before lowering his gaze to the piece of Vivre Card rustling on his palm.

.

.

.

 _“Isn’t there anything you want?”_ Nami asked, _“Like a dream, or a goal.”_

.

.

 _“So, why don’t you help out the next person you come across?”_   Vivi spoke with a soft smile, _“Then the one after that and so on. Then the next time we meet, you won’t have such a brooding look on your face. Only then will I consider forgiving you.”_

.

.

.

Sorry, Nami, Vivi. In the end, he—

“No,” Sanji answered, “I’m not.”

Dropping the Vivre card onto the ground, he turned and walked away, Iva’s stunned gaze searing into his back the entire time.

—was just too much of a lost cause.

 

(74)

 

When the meetup date finally rolled around, Sanji didn’t show up.


	5. A Target, an Encounter, and a Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I finished this chapter! Sorry about the wait, and, also, turns out there's gonna be one last chapter! This time I'm 100% certain, tho it's probably gonna take me awhile to finish it. Anyways, thanks for reading!

(75)

 

“The Strawhats have made their comeback!”

 

“They were alive this whole time, can you believe it!?”

 

(76)

 

“Damn Pirates, causing trouble again!! Claiming Fishman Island!!? There’s no way Big Mom would take this lyin’ down!”

 

“Hopefully, there won’t be another war....”

 

(77)

 

“Have you heard?”

 

“Apparently, the Strawhat Pirates have formed an alliance with the Heart Pirates!”

 

“Two members of the worst generation? That spells trouble, all right.”

 

“Definitely.”

 

.

.

.

.

 

Sanji swirled the water in his glass, listening to the idle chitchat throughout the diner. He’d been in Dressrosa for a day, and this town was already making him uneasy. He knew of Doflamingo’s, or should he say, _‘Joker’s_ dealings in the underworld. Had a few suspicions about how a Pirate like him had ended up sitting on the throne. None of them were pleasant.

Despite the creepy vibe this place gave off, it wasn’t that bad. The food was nice and the ladies beautiful. Ahh, on the surface, it truly was the kingdom of love and passion! What he would give to get stabbed by one of those ladies! Would totally be worth it.

While he gushed over that particular thought, the waiter came by, filling his cup to the brim, and apparently having a malfunction, as the toy’s eyes sprung forward, bouncing inches from Sanji’s chest and nearly sending him tumbling out of the chair in a surprised jolt.

“The hell!!?”

Silence. Everyone was staring at him. Cheeks growing hot, he grabbed his book, holding it up in a poor attempt to hide his face. The toy made an apologetic noise before sauntering to the next table. Sanji wanted to hack it into pieces. Damn thing. That’d been on purpose, hadn’t it!?

Across the diner, his target let out a huffy snicker at Sanji’s expense. Sanji couldn’t wait to stab him. Multiple times.

As the toy idled over to that particular table, he averted his gaze, rereading the first paragraph of his book, again and again, pretending he wasn’t observing them in his peripheral vision. Wasn’t about to let the second-in-command slip away. Finding Sabo had been a miracle in itself.

Not only had he spent these past two years fruitlessly searching for any Revolutionary; he hadn’t been seeking out Sabo in particular. Actually, the second-in-command had always been more of an ‘if he happened across him’ kind of target, and well, he’d happened across him. Ended up catching a glimpse of him while carrying crates onto a passenger ship for his latest part-time job. Sabo had thought he was discreet with his shitty fake beard, but really, he was so obvious Sanji couldn’t believe he hadn’t been killed already.

A scream drew him back, Sabo practically fusing with his chair, pale-faced and wide-eyed as a wooden nose bounced inches from his plate. Sanji didn’t bother trying to hide his smirk, much to the targets obvious ire. He started to stand, teeth gritted, but the lovely lady sitting behind him yanked him into the seat once again. The same one he’d been conversing with since arriving. Probably a Revolutionary as well. That, or an informant.

Understandable. There was some shady business going on in this kingdom. The toys for instance. Rumor was, they weren’t made through ordinary means.

Sanji side-eyed the waiter as he walked passed, notepad waving overhead.

Given everything he knew of Doflamingo, it wouldn’t be farfetched to assume something of that degree. Making a mental note to steer clear of him no matter what, he checked his target’s position again, right in time to see him knock a glass of water onto the table, skin paling further. That didn’t bode well.

Asking for his check, Sanji left the diner first, ducking into an alley across the street and watching as Sabo made his way outside, a newfound sense of purpose in his stride. Huh. What was that all about? Ah, whatever. Didn’t matter.

Lighting a cigarette, he sauntered after him, hoping the moron would go somewhere secluded. Although flirting with the female residents was an extremely enjoyable task, he had no intentions of staying in this place longer than necessary. If this went as planned, he’d kill Sabo and flee this veritable death trap before dawn. Wouldn’t even have to use his poisoned knife.

Was feeling good about this. The fact he’d run into Sabo had been nothing short of a miracle; the kind that never happened to him. Things were looking up as of late. Nodding in tune, he decided, without a doubt, after twenty-one years of constant torment, his shitty luck was finally improving. He couldn’t be happier.

 

(78)

 

Sanji was absolutely miserable. This had to be the worst thing that’d happened to him in awhile. Should’ve expected this much.

Hiding behind a barrel in a posture closely resembling the fetal position, he cussed himself out for being so blind. Things were never this easy for him, he should’ve known there’d be a catch!! Near his cover, the sound of footsteps came, and he flinched closer to the wooden surface. May have started rocking and muttering to himself, but that was perfectly understandable given his predicament.

“Shiiiit,” he hissed, “What the heck is _he_ doing here?”

An hour into tailing the Revolutionary, he’d noticed something odd. At first, he’d mistaken it for a pile of moss growing up the side of a building, then, of course, the dumb thing had moved, revealing it was the _other_ type of moss. The kind that’d sprouted legs and joined the Strawhats. Thankfully, the moss had the intelligence you’d expect from a Bryophyte and was yet to notice him. Now, if he could get around that corner....

In a burst of air, a tiny shape shot passed him, carrying a sword over its head, a sword that made him habitually grind his teeth in rage. The moss followed not a second later, shouting something about fairies.

Sanji jerked back, nearly knocking himself out against the barrel, and unfortunately, drawing the moss’s attention. Shit.

He skidded to a halt several feet away, whirling around with the expression of someone who’d seen a ghost. “What the—!? Cook!!?”

Despite having been caught huddled beside a barrel drenched in sweat, Sanji tried his best to maintain his dignity. He’d act casual. Like he’d been here from the start. Yeah. No reason to panic.

Following that train of thought, he said, “The heck y-you moss! Head. W-W-What do you want!? As if I’d hide from you, so don’t get any funny ideas in that algae’fied brain of yours!! Go attach yourself to a tree or something!!”

Nailed it.

Zoro didn’t seem to know how to respond, opening his mouth, closing it, a scowl forming. While this went on, the end of his sword vanished around the building, and with a horrified glance in that direction, he took off again.

“Damnit!! I’ll deal with you later!! Stay right there for now!!”

Whether he stayed or not, Sanji highly doubted the moron would find his was back. Tch. Couldn’t even find his way to the bathroom in the Sunny.

As Sanji pushed himself to his feet, another figure bolted into the alleyway, dark hair tied into a topknot, and for whatever reasons, dressed in a kimono.

“Zoro-dono!! Come back!!”

Without sparing him a single look, the weirdo disappeared in the direction opposite of where Zoro had gone. Huh. Fairies. Moss. Samurai. This was like some crappy fairytale. Did that mean he was the prince!? Or could it be... An image of a ball of moss clothed in red robes seared into his brain, along with a crown placed on top of its gross head. It grinned.

Sanji staggered backward, a hand gripping his chest as horrified tears flooded his vision. No! The thought of that alone was too detestable!!

With shaking hands, he lit a cigarette. If Zoro was in Dressrosa, the others must be as well. Should he...? No, they could manage on their own. Luffy may have the tact and self-restraint of a typhoon, but he wasn’t the type to pick fights unprovoked. They’d stay in port long enough to explore, then be out of this hellhole in no time.

Besides, if he got sucked into their insanity, he may not escape it a second time. He wasn’t up for another round of that. Nodding in tune, he let the subject drop, instead, refocusing his attention on the target he’d lost amongst the chaos. He needed to kill Sabo and get out of Dressrosa before that idiot moss actually spurred a miracle and tracked him down.

 

(79)

 

It took him another hour to locate Sabo, mainly because the guy had shed his sunglasses in favor of a brown cloak that hid most his features. Guess he was capable of hiding himself when push came to shove, though Sanji didn’t understand the sudden professionalism until Sabo stopped in front of the Coliseum, signing up for some weird tournament. Doflamingo’s tournament. Sanji had no clue who he’d pissed off in an alternate life, but surely, it couldn’t have been anything warranting this.

No, no, calm down! He’d sign up using a fake name, kill Sabo between matches, then slip out before anyone noticed. There. That was the plan.

Off to the side, he noticed a group of marines huddled in the shadows, occasionally sparing the Coliseum a glance. There were notepads in their hands, along with a scowling Den Den Mushi. Ah. They were probably taking advantage of the competition to capture pirates. That made sense. Good thing he didn’t have a bounty.

A fleeting picture of ‘Knife Guy’ flashed through his head. Nope. No bounty.

 

(80)

 

Sanji kept to himself, avoiding the matches as well as the other contestants. Couldn’t care less about the Flare-Flare Fruit, although, it did sound oddly familiar. Guess he’d read about it as a brat or something. Whatever. Too busy searching for Sabo to bother puzzling it out.

They’d entered a few minutes apart, and yet, there wasn’t a sign of him. Shitty Coliseum was a lot bigger than he’d expected. He couldn’t deal with this. He needed a smoke.

Was reaching for just that when a familiar ringing started.

**“BEDE BEDE BEDE BEDE,”**

Almost in a daze, he fished the Den Den Mushi out his pocket, watching as it rang in his palm.

**“BEDE BEDE BEDE BEDE,”**

Someone was calling? That didn’t make sense. Last time he’d checked, the only Den Den Mushi’s with prior knowledge of this frequency were in Germa, and it’s not like the bastard kept in touch with him outside of assignments. Had assumed his ‘family’ thought he was dead at this point.

**“BEDE BEDE BEDE BEDE,”**

Sanji’s hand hovered to the transceiver. Should he?

Out of the corner of his eye, a blue figure rushed passed, pressing against the wall long enough to peer through a doorway before ducking through. Sabo.

Clicking the Den Den Mushi off almost absently, he shoved it into his pocket. Someone must’ve tapped into the line by accident. That was all.

 

(81)

 

Didn’t take him long to catch up to Sabo. He was taking cover in the shade, focused on something around the corner to such an extent, he didn’t notice as Sanji slunk closer, fingers coiling around a knife.

The Den Den Mushi shook in his pocket, more insistent this time, but Sanji shut it off without shifting his attention from Sabo, who hadn’t seemed to hear, far too fascinated by whatever the hell was happening farther ahead. Sanji had no clue what it was, nor did he care until an explosion sounded out, causing the entire Coliseum to quiver. Nearly losing his footing, he ducked behind a pile of crates, biting his tongue against a string of curses. What the hell was that!?

Peering around the side, he noted Sabo’s gaze was firmly planted on a guy near the window. A sunflower print shirt, a cape with the words ‘Lucy’ stenciled to it, Sanji knew who it was immediately. Body moving on its own, he set a record for ducking out of sight, pulse thudding in his ears. Luffy. Why was he here!? Of all the places—!!

“This is just my luck,” he hissed. First the mosshead, now Luffy. Who was next!? Nami? Usopp? Chopper? Robin?

He winced a bit at the last one. Hadn’t spoken since Sabaody, and knowing her, she was probably worried he’d been ‘torn apart by Sea Kings’ or something equally fucked up. No wonder Zoro had looked at him like a ghost earlier.

Luffy spoke, calling out for a ‘Tra-guy,’ demanding to know why he was with Doflamingo, and Sabo stiffe—wait, _Doflamingo!?_

Sanji barely had enough time to squeeze out a curse before a gunshot went off. Then another and another. Knew it couldn’t be Luffy—shit-head was immune—yet, his muscles stiffened as much as Sabo’s had, mind swimming with a hazy panic he wasn’t used to. Didn’t relax until he heard Luffy calling out for ‘Tra-guy’ again. Who the hell was ‘Tra-guy’!? Why was Doflamingo unloading an entire clip into him!? Why was Luffy—

Sanji shook his head with far more strength than necessary. Damn it, he needed to concentrate!! He had nothing to do with the Strawhats anymore!! Whether they lived or died, that was up to them!

Trying his best to ignore the unease buzzing through his nerves like static, he tightened his grip around the handle of his knife, silently working himself up for a surprise attack. They were no longer his concern!

 _‘Honestly,”_ Luffy’s voice sighed, still audible despite the raindrops smacking into the train. _“Sanji, you can be so dumb sometimes.”_

Sandals slapping onto the concrete, a gush of air, Luffy racing by, close enough to reach out and touch. Sanji’s heart stopped, mind shutting off as he dashed out of sight, declaring he’d kick Doflamingo’s ass. Compared to all the other stunts that moron had pulled in the past, this was relatively tame. Still...

Footsteps, and with a jolt, he remembered Sabo. For whatever reason, it looked like his target was going after Luffy, the same sense of purpose in his stride Sanji had seen earlier. Didn’t so much as notice Sanji. Some Revolutionary. Sanji looked at the unused knife in his hands. Not like he had any room to talk.

 

(82)

 

Tugging a cloak on, he moved behind a pillar, watching as Sabo drew closer to Luffy, not a sign of faltering in his steps. Should he strike Sabo down while his guard was dropped? Bringing his knife closer, he considered he may as well. Wouldn’t get another chance like this.

Sabo went on about the Flare-Flare Fruit, claiming he wouldn’t hand it over to Luffy, all the while Sanji sized him up, deciding for a blow to the nape of his neck. Haki or not, he was less likely to sense it coming, especially while distracted. Readied his knife, drew his arm back, prepared to throw, then—

“It’s me, Luffy.”

—he froze.

What?

To his credit, Luffy sounded every bit as confused as Sanji, claiming he’d never met the second-in-command. That his name was Lucy. Maybe Sabo was mistaken? For some reason, Sanji couldn’t bring himself to believe that.

Sanji was mulling over attacking anyways when Sabo let out a soft chuckle.

“Didn’t you have another brother?”

His blood went cold. Peering around the pillar, he noted Luffy looked no better than him, eyes gradually growing wider, mouth falling open until his jaw hit the floor.

_“SABO!!?”_

Meanwhile, Sanji couldn’t remember how to breathe or what day it was. Sabo was Luffy’s brother!? But Ace!! Wasn’t Ace the only one!!?

Palms slick with sweat, he lowered his arm somewhat. Were all of Luffy’s relatives known worldwide? Garp, Dragon, Ace, now—

 _“SABO!!”_ Tears and snot running down his face, Luffy leapt into the air, landing on Sabo’s shoulders and wrapping his arms around the poor bastard’s head. Was wailing loud enough for Sanji to hear despite the static buzzing in his ears.

His lips twitched downwards, then up, shaping into a pitiful thing, really. “Good for you Luffy.”

Sheathing his knife, he reached for a cigarette. Drew in a lungful, exhaled slowly, leaned his head against the concrete pillar. Waited, listening to Sabo explain the situation, inform him of the marine’s outside, declare he’ll get the Flare-Flare Fruit, hell, he even lent Luffy a Den Den Mushi to contact the others with. He was either insanely reliable or a doting moron. Sanji couldn’t tell. Not that he bothered trying. Felt like he was intruding on something private.

Pushing off the pillar, he made to leave, took two steps, three, four, paused. The situation was shitty at best. Half the crew had gone ahead, whatever that meant, the rest were fanned out amongst the town, involving themselves in local affairs or lost. The lost part was for Zoro, who hadn’t been contacted since taking off on his own, apparently. Sanji couldn’t believe what a complete pain in the ass he was proving to be. At this rate, Luffy would be challenging Doflamingo all by himself, and that was just....

Jaw clenching, he started forward again, this time, with a different plan in mind. There was no choice. He’d have to track down that idiot moss and send him Luffy’s way. Better yet, he’d drag him to the palace himself. Destination in plain view or not, the dumbass would still manage to get lost.

 

(83)

 

The tracking part took longer than he’d like. It’d been an expected misery, however, seeing as that moron had a knack for getting himself lost in the strangest of places. Still remembered that time he’d spent an entire afternoon searching for him, only to stumble on Zoro neck-deep in sand and insisting he wasn’t stuck. Like a complete moron.

If he was stuck this time as well, Sanji would have to leave him behind and backup Luffy himself. Maybe finish him off while he was at it. Considering all the precious minutes of his life he was wasting doing this, he deserved that much. Damn marimo.

Lucky for Zoro, when he did find him, the mosshead was running along a rooftop, yelling gibberish at himself, if Sanji saw correctly. Why either of these things was happening, he couldn’t say. Guess the guy had lost a few screws along with that eye.

“Oi, Mosshead, get the hell down from there, I’ve got a message for you from Luf—” Too familiar. “Your captain!”

Zoro raised a brow at him from overhead, then hunched over to get a better look at him.

“Swirly brows? The hell’s with that getup?”

Shit, shit, shit— “Swirly brows? Never heard of him.” he replied, waving a dismissive hand. “Anyways, your captain’s heading to the palace to ‘kick Doflamingo’s ass.’ Told me to come get you.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh, is that so?” Zoro said, taking on the expression of an adult humoring a child’s antics. “Sending someone sure is an awful lot of forethought for my captain.”

That pissed him off beyond words. He found some anyways.

“Is it? I wouldn’t know,” he said, leaning forward and feigning surprise, all in hopes of pissing the moss off.

Worked like a charm, Zoro’s tolerance snapping to irritation at the speed of light.

“You—”

“He wants to take on Doflamingo by himself!!?” A high-pitched voice interrupted, a tiny girl springing onto the mosshead’s shoulder. Even from this distance, Sanji could tell she was adorable.

“A fairy!?”

“I’m not a fairy, I’m Wicca of the Tontatta Tribe!!”

“Ah.. my bad.” he amended absently, still blown away by her presence. Small was good too, he guessed.

“What about the group aboard the Sunny?” Zoro asked, ignoring Wicca’s outburst.

“Went ahead.”

“Oh, this is just terrible!!” Wicca went on regardless, smashing her fists into Marimo’s shoulder.

A WHAM that definitely shouldn’t have come from such tiny hands resounded, and Zoro, with a pained yell, yanked her off his shoulder, trapping her in a death hold.

“Watch it!!”

“Ah. Sorry.”

Did that mean her kind—the Tontatta Tribe?—had inhuman strength? Or, had she simply eaten a devil fruit? Sanji would have to keep an eye out for any more of them.

Speaking of eye, he had to resist the urge to roll both of his as he watched Zoro clumsily make his way off the building with a dislocated shoulder. Guess he’d have to do him a favor and pop that in place. He’d done it for himself a few times, but never on someone else. That and it’d been awhile. He was a bit hazy as to how. Ah, well, he’d figure it out.

 

(84)

 

Getting to the palace was harder than he’d thought it’d be, trouble weaving through the crowd, along with getting turned around a few times—something the mosshead wouldn’t shut up about until Sanji asked him why he’d been on a rooftop earlier. Nice to know he hadn’t lost his knack for pissing Sanji off. Wouldn’t stop fishing for information either, no matter how many times Sanji pretended not to know him. This resulted in fights. By the time they reached their destination, they were out of breath and covered in shallow cuts. Luffy was probably already in there.

Zoro charged in without a moment’s hesitation. Sanji remained in place. Took him a minute, but the moss noticed and shot him a questioning look that quickly formed into a scowl.

“Che. Whatever. Run away with your tail between your legs shit-cook, you’d only hold me back anyways.”

Sanji glared darkly at Zoro until he’d vanished from sight, an act soon followed by multiple pained screams and crashes. Ungrateful bastard. Anyways, it was about time Sanji got out of this place. Picking a fight with ‘Joker’ was basically suicide, especially for someone like him, who was on his own. With Sabo off the table and backup sent Luffy’s way, he had no reason to hang around.

An image of that girl from the diner flashed through his mind, speaking with Sabo in a hushed tone, tugging him back into his seat. Then again, if he hung around a little longer, maybe he could get some information out of her? That, and, if the situation in Dressrosa was serious enough to warrant the second-in-command’s presence, there had to be other Revolutionaries stationed as well. He’d track them down and pummel them for information about Dragon’s whereabouts. That way, maybe this trip wouldn’t be a complete waste after all.

 

(85)

 

The clouds were.... weird. Spread across the pale sky, were white lines, stretching from the ground all the way up for as far as he could see. Absently, he wondered if Nami would’ve known what they were. Kind of resembled the bars of a cage. At the word ‘cage,’ a chill ran down his spine. Not a good comparison.

Without taking his eyes off the sky, he pocketed his cigarette carton. Thanks to that, he would’ve been cleanly decapitated by a meat cleaver if not for the gust of wind that hit the nape of his neck. From where he’d rolled out of the way, he studied the round man stumbling to him on wobbly legs. He was dressed like a butcher, and hell, that would explain the shit out of the meat cleaver.

“I’m s-so sorry!” he stuttered out, tears streaking down his cheeks, “Please run away!!”

On cue, a scream sounded in the distance, then another and another, plumes of black smoke rising in the air. What the hell!!? What was happening!?

With a pained yell, the man dove for him, hacking uselessly at the air Sanji had once occupied. Sanji whirled on his heel, spinning behind the man and jabbing a fist into the base of his skull. He crumpled, except, it was odd, as though something was tangled around his limbs.

Frowning, Sanji crouched to investigate, but the man wasn’t finished. A flash of silver, a burning pain searing into his cheek, Sanji jumped back, drawing a knife as a hot, sticky warmth dripped down his chin. Moving like a puppet, the man’s arm lifted over his head, tugging him to his feet despite the whites of his eyes still being visible.

“Hey, pal, I’d appreciate it if you stayed down.”

Nothing. Huh. Guess he was unconscious.

As the guy made yet another move for him, a gleam of light above his shoulders caught Sanji’s eye. It was like sunlight reflecting off a wire. On a hunch, Sanji chucked a knife at it. The blade clashed against something with an almost deafening _SHINK_ before being deflected onto the ground. Scowling he tried again, this time, transferring Armament Haki onto the blade, and without a beat in-between, the man face planted the concrete, cleaver landing uselessly by his arm. Cautiously, Sanji drew closer, kicking the cleaver away before he knelt at the man’s side. Felt around until he’d located a string. A puppet? That meant a devil fruit user had been controlling him from the sidelines somewhere, didn’t it? As far as he knew, the only person with a power like that in Dressrosa would be...

A thudding set of footsteps, this time, a woman charging him, baseball bat raised for a strike. Things were about to get troublesome.

 

(86)

 

Sanji sliced the strings controlling yet another person, ducking in time to avoid buckshot blasting through his face. Out of all the Genocides he’d waded through, this by far was the most gruesome, on the grounds most of the participants had no will of their own. Just around the corner, he’d had to stop a mother from strangling her own kid to death. Doflamingo was a sick bastard. Even at his worst, Sanji had never been this merciless.

To go so far as to purge his own country... The hell had happened? Was he trying to cover something up? If that were the case, did it have to do with the lack of toys he’d seen around? Either way, whatever was happening, he’d bet his entire wallet Luffy and the others were smack-dab in the middle of it. Wherever that was.

A scream drew his attention, an older lady frozen in place as a burning tree toppled towards her. Not giving himself a moment to reconsider, he darted over and skidded to her side, prepared to hack the damn thing into pieces if need be. Before he could do anything, however, a pillar of fire shot over their heads, crashing into the tree and reducing it to a pile of ashes.

Raising an arm to guard his eyes, he turned, vision speckled and white. By the time he could see again, the person had already walked over, conversing with the old lady in hushed tones. Sabo. Of course, it was. Out of all the Revolutionaries he could’ve run into, it had to be the one he couldn’t harm.

After a minute of this, Sabo glanced at him, comforting smile taking a challenging glint. “So, we meet again, huh?”

Sanji was fairly certain they’d never met officially. Excluding the diner. “Looks that way.” he agreed anyways, fishing for a cigarette.

Sabo took a step closer, pipe slung over a shoulder. “You’ve been following me all this time, and yet, I can’t seem to figure out what a Vinsmoke would want with the Revolutionary Army.”

 _Well,_ Sanji thought, _shit._

“That is why you followed me all the way to Dressrosa, isn’t it?”

“..If you knew, why didn’t you do anything?”

Sabo’s grin spread wider, filling even the scarred side of his face, and Sanji wondered how he’d gotten it. “Wanted to know what your true motive was, me, or the Revolutionary Army in general. From the way you’ve been searching town, I’ll go out on a limb here and say it’s the second option.”

Sanji could tell where this was going. Moving away from the older lady, he drew another knife. “Guess you weren’t made second-in-command for nothing. Gotta hand it to you, you’re leagues above a certain moron I know when it comes to intelligence.”

Sabo didn’t dignify that with a response, lunging forward, flames spreading across his pipe. An odd choice for a weapon.

Sanji ducked out of the way, retaliating with a half-hearted kick to the gut Sabo dodged with ease, then a slash at his eyes. Sabo hopped back several paces, tense and calculating. Right in time for the old lady to scream.

Sanji shifted, taking in the group of people stumbling nearer, bats and clubs held overhead.

“Please run!!” one screamed.

“Someone, please stop me!!” another begged.

An explosion in the distance, along with several panicked shrieks. Building’s crumbling, burning, streets splitting in two.

“Don’t you have people to save?”

Sabo reeled back, the most offended Sanji had seen someone over the prospect of doing their actual job, “Wha—!? Who the hell are you to tell me that!!?”

Waving a cigarette around, he snorted, “Considering, I’ve basically been doing your job this entire time, I’d say I have every right.” Not like he could kill those people in good conscience, though, three years ago he wouldn’t have hesitated.

“‘Doing my job!?’”

“While you were playing around in the Coliseum—”

“I wasn’t playing around—”

“—I was actually doing somet—”

“—I couldn’t let anyone have Ace’s Devil Frui—”

“Um, excuse me... boys....”

 _“What!!?”_ they snapped, whirling around on the old lady who’d strolled over, hands clasped in front of her chest.

“You seem like nice children, but is now really the time for this?”

Sanji followed her gaze to the mob, the one in front racing towards them with his baseball bat prepared for a strike.

“Later,” Sanji grit out.

“Later,” Sabo agreed.

In sync, they charged.

 

(87)

 

Sanji had no idea how much time passed. The temporary truce had turned into a full-blown competition, and as it turned out, neither of them played fair. Jerk had shoved him into a mob twice, and Sanji had tripped him on multiple occasions, sometimes straight up ramming him out of the way to cut the strings instead. Hadn’t noticed the weird cloud formations closing in until some geezer pointed it out, and hadn’t cared afterward either. Far too concerned with winning. Because winning was important.

He may not be allowed to kill Sabo, but there was nothing wrong with kicking his ass in this manner. At least, he couldn’t picture Luffy getting mad at him, so surely, he couldn’t be doing anything that bad. If anything, Sabo had done worse, accidentally burning the hell out of some geezer, same one who’d pointed out the clouds closing in.

Glancing over his shoulder, he studied the ever growing crowd of terrified civilians, a certain bandaged geezer in particular.

“You know, I hear burns are more about the shock than anything.”

Sabo, very pointedly, kept his attention glued to the next approaching mob. “Pretty sure that’s for gunshot wounds.”

“Ah.”

Both sucked, in his opinion.

“You’re shitty at using those powers of yours,” Sanji said, deciding for some honesty.

Sabo gritted his teeth, voice coming out a tad choked, “Shut up!”

 

(88)

 

A Den Den Mushi call later, Sabo took off, leaving a trail of flames in his wake. Sanji took that as a forfeit and was feeling fairly pleased with himself until he noticed the civilians watching him expectantly. Shit. Now that Sabo had left, did that mean Sanji had to protect them? He couldn’t put into words how much he didn’t want to do that. Was concerned over the other’s whereabouts.

According to the girl, Luffy was in some kind of danger. Considering he was up against Doflamingo, that much was to be expected, though, upon seeing Sabo take off like a frickin’ homing missile, Sanji had a feeling Luffy was going to be fine. Was more focused on the rest. Not because he was worried or anything. Just curious. That was all.

He pointedly ignored the sweat beading his forehead, and the fact he was on his fifth cigarette in the duration of ten minutes. Tried to convince himself it was simply the stress of being relied on by this many people. Speaking of which, why did he have to look after them? He’d already saved them, damn it, there were things he had to do!!

“Oi, listen up!!” he yelled, hopping on top a piece of rubble. “If you don’t have a weapon then I suggest you grab one, because from here on out you’re going to be protecting yourselves!!”

Despite that, enthusiastic cheers answered.

“He’s right!”

“This is _our_ kingdom, we should take it back ourselves!”

“Let’s do this!!”

“Let’s get Doflamingo!!”

On cue, their fiery gazes landed on him. What in the hell? Did they think he was their leader or something?

“Wait, you—”

Not letting him finish, the crowd raced passed.

“For king Riku!!”

For a moment, Sanji considered leaving them be, then an image of Vivi passed through his mind, frowning at him in nothing short of sheer disappointment. Pell soon followed. Cussing up a storm, Sanji chased after them.

 

(89)

 

Luckily, by the time they’d found Doflamingo, he’d already been beaten, Luffy lying not far off, some cute pink-haired gladiator crying on him. Sanji was content to hide in the shadows as the civilians swarmed their ‘hero,’ a title he knew Luffy must hate being called.

Tugging his hood further down the bridge of his nose, he reflected, Luffy had actually done it. Studying the sky, now free of those cage-like clouds, the corners of his mouth lifted. Of course he did. This was Luffy, after all. Damn guy spurred miracles everywhere he went. Despite everything that’d happened, he felt more relaxed than he had in awhile, until—

“Sanji?”

Instantly, his entire body locked up, head snapping around to where Luffy was laying, the crowd shifting to give him space. Except, Luffy wasn’t looking at him. He was staring straight ahead through a barely opened eye, to where... where....

Sanji felt sick.

“You called me Sanji,” he said, striding forward as he tugged his hood down, revealing green hair that’d been slicked back to a point. “So that means, that guy really is here?”

Yonji.

A bead of sweat rolled down Sanji’s cheek, breath coiling in his lungs, refusing to come out. Why was _he_ in Dressrosa!?

“The tracker does say as much,” Reiju murmured, striding to Yonji with some kind of device in her hand.

Reiju, too!? Wait. A tracker?

No.

Pulse speeding up, he reached into his pocket, damp fingers settling around a shape that’d long since grown familiar, pulling it out.

“Well,” Yonji went on without a speck of sympathy. “If he were smart, I figured he’d have tossed it by now.”

Sanji’s Den Den Mushi stared up at him, eyes wide and confused. His teeth ground painfully, the quivering in his hand growing faster.

_“....Damn it.”_

Should’ve known. Should’ve known from the start!

If Reiju answered, he didn’t hear, only tuned in for Luffy’s raspy reply.

“You’re not... Sanji.” A pause, “Sanji is.... here? In Dressrosa?”

Sanji flinched several steps back, hand flying sub-consciously to his hood.

“Huh? So you know him, after all? Wait...” Yonji moved closer, a civilian trying to step between them only to be flipped onto the dirt like nothing. “You’re Monkey D. Luffy.”

“Ah. Yeah.” For some reason, the surprise in Luffy’s voice felt like a punch to the chest.

Yonji’s brows raised, a hand moving to his chin. “So Sanji really went and did it, huh? Befriending his targets son? I gotta give it to him, that’s not half bad.”

“..Target?”

“I bet you really think he’s your friend too!”

“Shut up!!” Luffy snapped, anger seeming to give him a second wind. “Sanji _is_ my friend!!”

Yonji only laughed louder. Damn him.

Sanji tore his gaze away from the crowd, taking note of the Germa soldiers standing not far off, rifles readied, expressions blank. Taking note of Reiju and Yonji, who’d been capable of punching through solid steel since childhood. Looked at Luffy who couldn’t move, not to mention, barely clinging to consciousness as is.

If he kept talking, injured or not, that brat Yonji would pummel him for the heck of it. Pocketing his Den Den Mushi in favor of a cigarette, he tore his hood off, trying to mimic the soldier’s uncaring masks as he left his hiding spot, failing.

“Why are you here?”

At his question, Yonji finally stopped laughing, sick amusement glassing over with hatred. Good.

Reiju didn’t look at him, “Our father sent us to fetch you.”

Fetch him? The bastard did?

His expression must’ve been more telling than he’d like, because Reiju straightened somewhat, visible eye widening a fraction.

“Did he not tell you?” she didn’t wait for a response, momentary frown shifting into the same creepy grin she always wore. “I guess he intends to explain in person.”

No, Sanji just hadn’t picked up when he’d called.

Arms tucked over his chest, Yonji tilted his chin up with a smirk that was borderline evil. “He probably realized you’d run away if you knew the truth!”

“That so?” Sanji said, making a point to stare at the scar stretching from Yonji’s jaw to his nose. “How’s the scar holding up?”

The effect was instant, Yonji’s shoulders jerking, teeth grinding as he took a threatening step closer. Made it too easy for him.

“Enough,” Reiju sighed, stepping between them. “Now that we’ve come to get you, Sanji, I assume you’ll come willingly.”

He reacted how he usually did whenever Reiju spoke to him and pretended it was simply a breeze.

Yonji snorted, that evil smirk finding its way back to his face, “I say we drag him back half-dead!”

“Think you can?” Sanji growled, reaching for a knife. Was more than ready to cut the little fucker to ribbons, when Luffy interrupted, sounding almost desperate.

“Ah! W-Wait!! _Sanji!!”_

He froze. As if moving through syrup, he moved slowly, angling his head to meet Luffy’s startled gaze. Or, at least, he thought it’d been startled, until a toothy grin broke out across his face, brilliant and irritating as it’d always been.

“Ahh, it really is you!! You should’a told me you were in Dressrosa!”

Yonji looked back and forth between them, frown deepening, while Reiju raised a brow, interest written in every inch of her body. The duo was harmless on their own, but if they told the three that weren’t...

Sanji’s hand drifted to his elbow, the one Ichiji had snapped over a bent knee after the knife incident, the one that still couldn’t move in certain directions without pain.

Luffy, on the other hand, continued to babble about all sorts of stuff, unaware of the atmosphere surrounding them. “Anyways, where’ve you been!? Why didn’t you show up at the meeting spot, did you not get my message?”

Reiju tipped her head to the side, “A message?”

Luffy, thankfully, didn’t respond, gaze never leaving Sanji, who was studying the chipped concrete beneath his feet. He’d tried avoiding it. Tried leaving without a word. He’d been naive to believe that would work. That he could walk away and that be the end of it. This was _Luffy._ Luffy who’d chased Robin into Enies Lobby despite her protests, who’d broken into Impel Down on his own to save his brother. He didn’t take no for an answer. Never had.

Turning on his heel without a word, he dug a cigarette out, stopping to light it once his back was not only to Luffy but his siblings as well.

“Yeah. I got it.”

No use trying to hide it.

“Then why?” Luffy asked, tone bordering soft.

Good question. Because he didn’t deserve them? Because being with them made him falter? Because spending time with Luffy, knowing he’d soon kill his father was too much? Hell if he knew.

“Why would I?” he settled on, “I’m not some shitty pirate.”

“Ah! You’re right. I forgot.”

Too easy!! Sanji’s jaw dropped, causing his cigarette to fall out. Spent the beat of silence scrambling to catch it, burning his palm in the process.

“Hey Sanji, join my crew already!! Stop being so stubborn!!”

“Like you’re one to talk about being stubborn!!” Sanji shot back out of sheer habit. The burst of energy was gone as quickly as it’d come, shoulders slumping, eyes lowering. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not joining.”

Luffy hummed noncommittally.

“You heard the jackass,” Sanji went on, jabbing a thumb in Yonji’s general direction. If he hadn’t moved, that is. “I was only using you. To get to Dragon.”

Wasn’t a lie. Dragon was the only reason Sanji had stuck around after Water Seven. So, why was his skin itching?

“I don’t believe that!”

He flinched. Drawing in a gulp of air, he said, “Y-Yeah, well, I tried to kill your old man. Still am.”

“I don’t care about that!!” Luffy yelled without missing a beat. A pause. “Wait, _you want to kill my dad!!?”_

“How slow can you possibly get!!?” Sanji snapped, finally whirling around to see the shocked look on Luffy’s face, as well as the dumbfounded ones his siblings were currently sporting.

“So this is Strawhat Luffy...” Yonji was muttering under his breath, while Reiju simply looked back and forth between them, lips parted, eyebrows raised.

“You can’t do that!!” Luffy huffed, pushing himself up on bruised arms. “Just join my crew instead and stop being an assassin!!”

“I already told you I can’t join your shitty crew!”

“Why not!?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!!”

“You said to listen to you!!”

“Like hell I did!! You’re only hearing what you want to!!”

“You did so say it, you lying jerk!!” Luffy shot back, and as if to prove how immature he was, stuck his tongue out at him.

“You—!!” Sanji ground out, already reaching for a knife.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, Reiju sliding beside him, every bit of shock having vanished in place of an unreadable frown.

“I think it’s about time we be on our way, Sanji.”

“Ah,” running a hand through his hair, he murmured, “Right.”

He turned, noting that shitty tracking device was gone. Didn’t process he’d spoken to the sister he’d spent the last thirteen years ignoring until the soldiers parted to let him pass.

“Hold on,” Yonji was saying when Sanji’s brain finally started working again. “I say we take Strawhat Luffy hostage as insurance!”

“There’s no need for that,” Reiju replied, short, simple, striding passed Sanji without a single glance.

With a glare at Luffy, Yonji stomped by as well, purposely ramming into his shoulder as he did so. Cursing beneath his breath, Sanji took a step after him, more than ready to make the little shit-stain regret that, but that’s when Luffy spoke up again.

“Wait, Sanji!!”

His feet seemed to obey on their own, freezing in place.

“You ain’t getting off that easily!! You only stuck around to use us!? Cut the crap!!” he yelled, strained as if he were trying to stand. “I’ve never heard you say anything so forced and fake!! You’re a terrible liar!!”

Cloth rustling, a grunt soon proceeded by a thud that must’ve been Luffy hitting the ground. Expected it to be over, expected him to stay down, except, along with the sound of dirt being scraped, Luffy’s voice came again, unwavering despite the exhaustion riddling every word.

“Times have been.... tough without you.. you know... we managed, but still.... without you, I won’t...”

Sanji started walking, every ounce of will directing his eyes forward.

“No, I can’t become the Pirate King!! I already told you I don’t care about your past!! So Sanji!! _Join my crew already!!”_

 

(90)

 

“So much for never stepping on one of these tacky things again,” Sanji muttered, watching as Dressrosa grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Tried to pretend every cell in his body wasn’t screaming for him to go back. To stay with Luffy. See? This was exactly what’d he’d been worried about. In the duration of five minutes, Luffy had made him want to drop everything and become a Pirate. Charismatic bastard.

“Monkey D. Luffy,” Reiju said in a tone he couldn’t place. “He seemed like a rather interesting man.”

He was something, all right.

Footsteps, much to his disappointment, coming closer. He kept his gaze trained ahead, ignoring her as she moved to his side, a box that must’ve been a first-aid-kit cradled in her arms.

“You’re injuries,” she prompted, popping it open.

Right. He’d forgotten.

She reached for him, a wet rag in hand, and he backed away, images flooding his vision; Chopper chasing him with rolls of bandages, a teenage Robin gingerly dabbing at his forehead. The idea of Reiju bandaging him felt wrong. In a swift movement, he yanked the rag from her, pressing his waist against the railing while he scrubbed at the blood dried to his skin. At least the bleeding had stopped.

Reiju blinked, the only sign this had bothered her at all, before returning her creepy smile to full blast and finally, thankfully, retreating to the cabin.

“Do be careful with that.”

Resisting the childish urge to flick her off, he reached for the roll of bandages. She wasn’t worth it.

 

(91)

 

In the end, he spent the next week cooped up in ‘his’ room. Apparently, every Germa vessel came with a private quarters for all of the bastard’s ‘precious children.’ His, was generally untouched, dust collecting on the drawers, as well as the coffee table, the portholes grimy and covered in what had to have been years of being blasted by sea spray, and a three painted across the door. Guessed this had been built before Sanji ‘died,’ and heavily neglected afterward. Reminded him how much he hated this place.

 

(92)

 

The bastard must’ve been busy or something because he spent his first day in Germa unbothered. Ichiji and Niji weren’t around either for whatever reasons, and Yonji was easy to deal with on his own. Not that he had to. Spent the hours locked in his old bedroom reading. The peace was short-lived, the bastard barging into his room the next morning, high and mighty as he’d always been.

“You enjoy being a huge pain in my ass!?”

Shifting in his seat, Sanji muttered, “Bastard,” The closest thing to a greeting he cared to give. “You were tracking me all this time?”

“Insurance,” he answered without an ounce of shame, “In case I ever found a use for you, and as of today, I’m glad for my forethought.”

“Last time I checked, I’ve been doing your dirty work all these years,” Sanji shot back, although, he knew every bit of the bastard’s work was unsightly, from warmongering to raising his own damn children. “What about my mission? You expect me to just drop everything!?”

“That’s exactly what I expect.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but the bastard wasn’t done.

“I gave you that task, along with all the others in hopes you would die. However, now I’m incredibly grateful you’ve managed to survive all these years, Sanji.”

Sanji flinched, ignoring the way his hand shook as he fumbled for a lighter. “Y-Yeah? That so?”

The bastard was glad he hadn’t died?

“I’m giving you a chance to give up this hellish life of yours in favor of a fairly comfortable one.”

Flicking his lighter on, Sanji murmured, “What are you on about?”

He actually expected Sanji to drop everything? The hell was up with—

“A wedding.”

The flame stopped inches from his cigarette bud, “Eh?”

The bastard rambled about all kinds of shit, ‘ties between the families,’ ‘conquering the North Blue,’ while Sanji stared dumbly. The more he said, the heavier Sanji felt, until, he lowered his lighter and growled, “Why me?”

Silence. He pressed further.

“Why not one of them, huh?”

There was a catch. There had to be.

“The bride will be Charlotte Pudding.”

“Charlotte?” where had he— “One of Big Mom’s daughters!!?”

“That’s correct,” the bastard said, scowl darkening as he raised his chin. “With this alliance, that ambition of mine becomes a guaranteed reality.”

Sanji leapt to his feet, throat tightening in rage, “‘A more comfortable life!?’” As if! Marrying him into that family was no different than turning him into a sacrificial pawn!! He should’ve known it would be something like this!!

“With that in mind, despite it being a mere marriage, I’m sure you can understand why I was reluctant to hand over one of my precious children to that mentally deranged woman.” A pause and Sanji could’ve sworn the bastard’s gaze grew colder—something he hadn’t thought possible. “And that’s when it struck me, ‘yes, don’t I have a spare dud lying around somewhere?’ You are a means to end Sanji, nothing more.”

Sanji opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Why hadn’t he known?

“Just so we’re both clear, I still and never will see a fool like you as a son of mine. Not in the slightest.”

The flame on Sanji’s lighter finally flickered out.

“As things stand, you cannot be trusted not to run away from this marriage. Thankfully, Big Mom was kind enough to lend this to me.” The bastard finally left the doorway, retrieving a Den Den Mushi from his pocket and setting it on the table. “Normally, I wouldn’t consider such a method would work on you, however, I’ve heard you seem unnaturally attached to these vermin.”

Sanji tried his best at a scowl. Probably failed miserably. ‘Vermin?’ What did he mean by that? Sanji wasn’t—

**“Gatcha!”**

For a moment, silence filled the room, the Den Den Mushi maintaining a blank expression. Then, tears flooded its eyes, and it yelled, “Sanji!!?”

Everything went cold. Breath rattling in his lungs, a feeling like a metal ball rolling around inside his skull, he shifted his gaze to the bastard, but it was bleary and unfocused.

“What the hell is this?”

“You recognize these voices? So he was correct after all.” the bastard said like it wasn’t a big deal. For him, it wasn’t. “Big Mom’s subordinates discovered them taking refuge in Zou along with Caesar Clown.”

“Sanji is that you!!?”

Nami.

“Sanji!! Help us!!”

Chopper.

“Sanji-san!!”

Brook.

His entire body was shaking, teeth clenched with enough force to make his jaw throb painfully. “The hell... How did.... You bas—” How did he find out!? How did he—!? Cutting himself off, he forced a mouthful of damp air down his lungs. It burned his throat like smoke, remaining stagnant in his chest until he hissed, “I have nothing to do with them anymore!! Leave them the hell out of this!!”

“You should’ve thought about that before brushing elbows with the peasants, Sanji!”

Sanji eyes shot wide, snapping to the doorway where Yonji was leaning. Lopsided smirk, bright-eyed, chin tipped up, Sanji was already moving for him before he could comprehend what he was doing, images of Dressrosa flashing through his mind. Yonji listening to his conversation with Luffy, suggesting taking him hostage, the biting glare he’d given after Reiju refused.

It was him!! He was the one who’d told!!

“You little piece of shit!!” leaping forward, he smashed a fist through Yonji’s face, sending the fucker crashing into the hallway and nearly taking out a passing servant in the process.

Went to chase after him, but an armored foot collided with his head, knocking him into the wall. The bastard landed without effort, soldiers flying passed him, latching onto Sanji’s shoulders, forcing him to his knees. He struggled against them in vain, spitting curses, ignoring the throbbing in his broken fingers.

“I’ll kill you!!” he spat out, “All of you!! Every last one of you!!”

The bastard released a low growl, strolling closer until they were five feet apart. “This unsightly behavior of yours hasn’t changed. This is the last time I’ll warn you, Sanji, disobey my orders, or try to run from this wedding and I’ll have Big Mom execute those vermin.”

All of his strength fled him. He went limp in the soldiers hold, eyes searing into the floor, a sticky warmth trickling down the side of his head.

The bastard’s gaze lingered for several heartbeats, then he turned on his heel, retrieving the Den Den Mushi and clicking off the transceiver.

“Whether you like it or not, I’ll definitely have you proceed with the marriage!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabo and Sanji will definitely argue over who won their match for years to come. Anyways, since Sanji wasn't around like he was in canon, several details ended up changing, like, Zoro and Kinemon finding out what's going on and telling Luffy in the Coliseum, and Sanji dealing with the whole Capone situation in Zou


	6. An Imprisonment, A Strawhat, and a Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheh kinda funny it's ending on chapter 6 outta 6, like Germa 66, u'd think i'd planned this or smth (i didn't)
> 
> (TW: sleep deprivation, panic attacks, flashbacks, referenced abuse - skipping 94 - 97 will avoid the worst of it)

(93.1)

 

Luffy opened his eyes to a wooden ceiling, darkness tunneling at the edges of his vision. Blinking it away, he propped himself up on an elbow, free hand moving to his throbbing head, fingertips brushing a bandage. Bandage?

“Huh?”

“Welcome back Captain.”

Turning, he found Zoro sitting at his bedside with a bottle of whiskey by his knee. When their gazes met, Zoro’s lips tipped into a lopsided smirk, and Luffy returned the gesture, cheeks pinching to make room for the largest grin he could manage.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go back to bounty hunting to fill my stomach.”

Luffy snickered at that, an image of Zoro frantically running in circles trying to find a bounty passing through his mind, then....

“AH!!”

He shot upright, ignoring the bolts of pain smashing through every nerve. “Sanji!! _AH!!_ And Sabo!! Where’s Sabo!? And Sanji, where’s he at!?” as the last words left his mouth, he latched onto Zoro’s shoulders, nearly shoving him off the stool—something Zoro would usually get mad about. This time, he remained silent, staring with a serious Zoro frown that made Luffy pause, unease coiling in his gut.

“..What happened?”

The silence dragged on until Zoro sighed through his nose, causing Luffy to release him and sit back on the mattress.

“You ran into Cook, huh? With how cowardly he was acting, I assumed he’d avoid you altogether.”

Luffy tilted his head, remembering the weird green and pink Sanji’s, then the normal Sanji stomping over, not happy at all. Luffy wasn’t sure what to make of that yet.

“He showed up after I kicked Mingo’s ass,” Luffy explained, absently tucking his arms over his chest, “And then he left with some weird clone guys, but he didn’t act like he wanted to go with them. Hmmmmm.”

Luffy could feel his brain running at optimal capacity, getting hotter and hotter until he could’ve sworn steam was shooting out his ears. He gave up. Thinking about it was pointless anyways.

“Welp, guess there’s no other choice, I’ll just have to go ask him then!”

“Oi, Luffy, drop it!!” Zoro snapped, slamming the bottom of the whiskey onto the nightstand with a _clunk_. “The way things stand, he’s gone without so much as a ‘thank you for the ride’ or a ‘sorry for all the trouble!’ Take a moment to think.”

Luffy had thought about it. Stopped in the doorway regardless. He needed Zoro on the same page as him.

“We’re on a bit of an express train here,” Zoro went on, “Caesar told us, didn’t he? The Smile that Doflamingo was making, it was intended for Kaidou! Just as we angered Doflamingo by destroying the laboratory on Punk Hazard, our destruction of the factory on Dressrosa has angered none other than the Yonkou Kaido! They’re no longer some far-off threat, we don’t have time for pitstops!”

For several beats, Zoro’s gaze burned into his shoulder blades, tension palpable enough to weigh on them, pushing them down. Luffy ignored it, tipping his head down as he readjusted his hat.

“And then what?”

“Hah!?”

“After we meet up. Then what?”

Zoro didn’t answer. Luffy didn’t need to see his expression to know what that meant.

“You think as we are, we can really stand a chance against Kaido?” he released a huff of air, one that rang of bitter surety, “We’d be defeated for sure.”

Fighting Mingo had taught him that much. If Traffy hadn’t helped him out, if Sabo hadn’t watched his back, if all the others hadn’t fought with him, hadn’t supported him, he would’ve been killed. If Kaido truly was stronger than Mingo, then...

“Right now, our crew’s not functioning at its best. Not without Sanji.”

“Cook’s not part of our crew,” Zoro said, low, careful, “He made that pretty damn clear when he didn’t show up at Sabaody.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll just have to find him and ask again and again until I wear him down.”

One step, two, three, four, he’d made it out the doorway. Zoro released another sigh, this time, his voice tinged with fondness despite his words. “You really are the spawn of the devil.”

Luffy found himself snickering at that.

“Heads up.”

On instinct, he spun on his heel, snatching something out of the air and turning it over. It was a weird shiny thing.

“What is this?”

“Tracking device. That announcer handed it over to us when he brought you here. Cook should be at the other end of it.”

“Zoro,” he waited a beat before allowing a grin to slide across his face, “Thanks.”

A snort, “Damn right. Let’s go get Cook.”

 

(93)

 

It was dark, and he was pissed. Sanji lay on the floor with his back pressed to the wall, ears ringing, stomach churning uncomfortably. Couldn’t tell if it was the horror of being returned to this hellhole or the concussion the bastard had given him. Bile rising to the base of his throat, he rolled over, staring at the cracks littering the wall, some caused by his brothers old ‘visits.’

He hated this. Knew calling for help would be pointless. Needed to think of a way out. Had to save himself. Had to save his friends.

His eyelids felt heavy.

Had to think of something. Forget the cufflets. Forget his hands. Had to get out. Had to—

They flickered closed, and with a jolt, he popped them open again, only for the process to repeat, a dreary haze flooding his mind. Shit. He was tired.

Needed to get out.

His vision faded, black overtaking everything, and yet, he couldn’t help thinking it was still brighter than the cellar.

 

(94)

 

When he came to, he was a little surprised to find his heart still beating. Read somewhere sleeping with a concussion was dangerous. Couldn’t tell whether surviving had been a lucky break or not.

Shaking the thought off, he rose on wobbly legs, patting himself down for a weapon, finding none, moving for the crates on the other side of the room—well, in the direction he figured they must be. Turned out to be wrong and he couldn’t find the damn things until he nearly fell into one.

Grabbing the sides to steady himself, he squeezed his eyes shut against a migraine, nausea returning with a vengeance. Had to hunch over for several minutes, pulse thumping against his clammy skin. Felt gross. Could use a change of clothes, among other things.

Once he was somewhat reassured he wouldn’t puke his guts up, he sifted through the crates, searching for knives, forks, hell, even a spoon would’ve been good at this point. Found nothing. Damn it.

 

(95)

 

The next morning he checked again, opening every cabinet, the tiny oven, prodding at the cot he’d outgrown decades ago. Found nothing but an assortment of dusty books and tiny, ragged clothes. Couldn’t believe he’d been able to read in this light once upon a time. Hoped he wouldn’t be in here long enough to regain that skill.

Logically, he understood he would only be incarcerated until the wedding. That the bastard didn’t trust him. Believed he would run despite the explosives around his wrists, despite his friend’s lives hanging in the balance. The former may have been true, but the latter.... Shit, how _could_ he leave them? Intentionally or not, he’d gotten them involved in this. Should’ve played it off, should’ve yelled at Luffy, claimed he hated him, hell, maybe even kick him around a bit. Better yet, he should’ve gotten off at the first stop after crossing the Red Line, should’ve never stayed with them.

The idea stung but if it could’ve prevented this... Ah, hell, it was too late now. Thanks to his lapse in judgment, the Strawhats were captured.

He had to fix this somehow. He had to. He’d fucked up.

He tried to latch onto the idea of helping them, tried to steel himself, to shrug off the hell he was currently trapped in. Failed. The air was turning wet. Why was the air turning wet? He choked on it, struggled to reign in another breath, choked on that too. What if he never got out again? Shit! No! He’d get out, he _knew_ he’d get out, damn it, he just—

Images were flooding his brain, blood on the concrete, pain across his back, sharp, too sharp, desperate pleas, baseball bats glinting off a light that wasn’t there, that wasn’t—

Lightheaded, he staggered away until his back hit the wall, slid down it, every muscle shivering hard enough to make his kneecaps collide, to make sitting difficult. Fingers found his hair, buried themselves there on instinct, a reminder he was _here_ not there, that the helmet wasn’t on, that he was bigger, stronger, could protect himself. That he was going to get out of here, was going to be _fine._

.

.

.

_He couldn’t breathe._

 

(96)

 

The iciness seeped through his thin clothes like water, making his limbs heavier from the cold. He couldn’t fit on the tiny cot anymore, nor had the bastard thrown a sleeping bag in with him. Or a blanket.

Should’ve been furious, however, he couldn’t bring himself to care beyond a sigh. At least the cold was good for keeping him awake if nothing else.

With sleep came nightmares, and considering he was currently trapped in the place most of the worst ones featured, it was hell. Both in waking and in sleeping he was tormented by fear he shouldn’t feel, fear that didn’t belong in this moment, didn’t fit. Felt broken bones that’d long since mended, lacerations that’d long since sealed into scars.

He was such a moron. Had actually believed he was more or less recovered. Moron. How _could_ he have recovered? He’d never gotten help, never cut off contact, never done anything besides cover up old injuries and avoid reminders of the past like they were plagued.

Something he didn’t have the luxury of doing anymore. He was trapped in a vicious cycle and he couldn’t leave, couldn’t get out, couldn’t escape, couldn’t—

In comparison, staring aimlessly at the ceiling that grew clearer every day was much better. Tried not to think about what would happen to him. Failed. Couldn’t help it. If he married into Big Mom’s family, would his friends be let go? Would the bastard keep his end? Surely he would. The bastard was a lot of things, but Sanji didn’t think he was the kind of shitstain that’d break his word like that.

Still, out of all the uncertainties piling up, his survival didn’t make the list. He knew without a doubt that if he went through with this he’d die. Whether the death was literal or not, he wouldn’t make it passed the ceremony.

Habitually, he dug a hand into his pocket, fingers returning coiled around a carton he’d emptied days ago chain-smoking out of stress. Now he was stressed and out of cigarettes. Great.

Should’ve been angry, should’ve cursed, should’ve been a lot of things. Instead, he simply released another shaky sigh. Too tired.

 

(97)

 

Lately, he could’ve sworn he saw things moving out of the corner of his eye. A shadow, a figure, _something._ Could hear whispers, voices, repeating things he’d experienced, phrases that’d been said to him, things he’d spoken as well.

Zoro sacrificing himself for Luffy, insisting he was worth nothing if he couldn’t protect his captain, his own voice trying to intervene, to talk sense into him, telling him dying for another person was a fool’s death (hypocrite). Could hear Nami asking about All Blue, Usopp telling tall tales, Robin’s laugh, soft, comforting, Chopper chewing him out for not sleeping, for being reckless and not caring for himself. Sometimes, he could even swear Luffy was there, snickering in that carefree way of his, assuring Sanji everything would be all right, that freedom existed, that dreams could come true.

Maybe it was the stress, maybe he was losing it.

Shit. He was so tired.

 

(98)

 

As per custom, Reiju sauntered in nearly two weeks into his imprisonment. He’d expected this, had taken to waiting with his back pressed to the bars, hands clasped on his lap, eyes glued to the other side of the cell he’d been able to see since yesterday morning.

“Your Den Den Mushi,” she spoke slowly, as if navigating her path through a minefield. “You still have it, do you not?”

Shook his head, remembering the soldiers taking it alongside his weapons.

She was silent for a beat, “Guess it doesn’t matter. Germa is Germa.”

He was tempted to ask what the hell she was on about when her voice softened, almost pitying, “Ichiji and Niji should be arriving sometime this afternoon.”

“..I need a smoke.”

Rustling of cloth, and he could imagine her pulling out a carton. Guess she’d brought it for him, some of the ‘least she could do’ bullshit she’d been pulling since they were brats. He still accepted it nonetheless, stuffing a cigarette between his lips quickly as possible and retrieving his lighter from his pocket. She copied him, taking one for herself and releasing a slow stream of smoke. Didn’t know she’d taken up the habit.

“I don’t do it very often,” she answered, as though she could read his mind. “Only here and there when I need some stress relief. Father wouldn’t stand for it if he found out.”

Rather than answer her, he closed his eyes, enjoying the tobacco seeping into his tongue. When he opened them, the cellar was spinning somewhat, a ball rolling around inside his skull, making it ache painfully. Tired.

“Wouldn’t want you dying of withdrawal,” she added as an afterthought before exhaling another puff of smoke.

With a noncommittal hum, he rested his head against the bars, trying to arrange words in a way that made sense. The task was too demanding, and he took another desperate drag from his cigarette before starting. “..I spent nearly a year with those morons, you know.”

Heard her hair rustle. Guess she was looking at him. Not that he cared.

“They’re weird as hell, annoying as hell, and—” he stopped.

What had he been getting at again?

Something about the Strawhats. Something about them being annoying.

“They’re completely hopeless when it comes to common sense,” he tacked on.

Sounded about right. Yeah, that was right.

Silence met his words, and he could imagine her frowning. Probably had no clue what he was rambling about. Not that he cared about that either.

“If it wasn’t for me, those morons probably would’ve died on some foreign island in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe they’d have starved after Luffy ate all the rations.”

They _needed_ him, he tried to say, all the while knowing it was utter bullshit. That it was him who needed them. That it was him who’d spent the past two years miserable and empty, and for what? What had been the point of it? To be imprisoned, blackmailed, then thrown away like trash?

If it had truly been about revenge, he would’ve had better luck joining the Revolutionary Army than sticking with Germa. Could’ve toppled the Government and laughed in their shitty faces. Yet, rather than defect, rather than do anything useful, he’d stayed. Had kept his side of the bargain, had done whatever was asked of him, had never tried to leave.

He’d told himself he hated the bastard, that he’d given up on forging a bond between them, but in reality, that was the real reason he’d stuck around wasn’t it? All the years, all the missions, all the times he’d almost died; it’d all been in hopes the bastard would accept him again. That _this_ mission would prove he was worth something damn it, and near the end, that his death would prove it.

What a sick fucking joke. It took being beaten and thrown into a cellar for him to face the facts. That his ‘anger’ had been nothing more than a weak defense from the start. That he hadn’t only been lying to others his entire life, but himself as well.

Fuck, he was so tired.

“They sound like an interesting bunch,” Reiju murmured, probably taking pity on him.

Like he wanted that from her. “I’m done,” he released alongside a stream of smoke, “I’ve had enough of this shit. I want...” the last two words were unfamiliar on his tongue, and he paused, examining the taste they left behind, the pin-pricks up his arms. How long had it been since he’d last said them? He tried them again, tried to ignore how awkward they felt. Couldn’t. Gave up.

Reiju had caught onto his predicament if the sniffle behind him was any indicator. With a jolt, he realized she was crying. Didn’t have much time to process this before she stood, heels clacking against the floor as she used them to grind out her cigarette.

Fingers coiling around the bars, she shoved them apart with a nearly deafening _screeeeeech,_ “Go.”

Sanji didn’t move.

Reiju kept her puffy eyes on him, lips twisting into a half-formed sneer, “Have you gone deaf!? Get out of here Sanji!! You won’t get a second chance!!”

He took a step forward, two, three, slid through the gap. Stopped.

Up until now, all he’d ever done was run. Run from the Strawhats, from the truth, fill himself with lies and pretend he couldn’t care less, that he hated everybody and everything.

“Sanji!”

At that, he turned, meeting her gaze evenly as his mind raged in a war against itself, as his eyes stung, as his throat tightened against an emotion he rejected.

It was fine. He saw what he had to do. It was so clear to him, how could he have never thought of this?

Of course. The best way to solve everything. The best way to save his friends, to right all his wrongs, to make everything finally end. He just had to kill the bastard.

“Reiju. Can you do me another favor?”

 

(99)

 

He spent a majority of the trek to his stuff stumbling blindly, neon colors dancing along his barely opened eyelids, pulse thudding hard enough to smash out his throat. This was nothing compared to the ordeal he’d suffered through after three years in that cellar. Knowing this didn’t change much, though, pained groans escaping whenever a ray of sunlight hit him just right, or whenever he had to duck behind a corner, forcing his eyelids wide enough to watch the soldiers march by.

The pain was good for nurturing the rage if nothing else, the rage he’d kept pent up since he was five, since the first time his brothers had turned on him, the first time everyone had averted their eyes from it. Though he knew it was a shitty defense, he gladly hid behind it, allowing it to spread through his veins like fire, awakening every nerve, every sensation until he could’ve sworn he was the walking embodiment of it. That, at least, succeeded in making the exhaustion ease, adrenaline taking over, sending him into auto-pilot.

In about half an hour the soldiers would stop by his cell with Lunch, would notice he was gone, would report it. Rather than cause him panic, the knowledge of this made his pulse thrum all the harder. Let them see. Let the come looking.

Reiju moved ahead of him, chin up, stride confident, and he couldn’t help questioning whether she was really helping him, or if she’d changed her mind and was taking him to Judge. Guess he could work with that. Could snap his neck. Or maybe, steal that shitty spear and—

Reiju came to a halt around the corner, gesturing to an ajar door before sliding inside. He followed without a beat of hesitation.

Low and behold, it was a locker room, empty except for the two of them and seemingly unused besides the one on the far right, where the coating of dust had been smeared off. He beelined for it.

Rather than let Reiju enter the code on the lock, he spun and smashed his heel into it, crumpling the thin metal like a soda can then prying the door open. Ignored the stare searing into him as he gathered his stuff, holstering knives at the speed of light. Only slowed at the sight of a leather sheath. Took it in his hands, turned it over, brushed his fingers over the hilt.

Found it.

Instead of clipping it to his belt, he shoved it into his pocket alongside his Den Den Mushi.

“This is the last bit of help you’re getting from me, Sanji,” Reiju said, though her tone had returned to its original pitch, calm, controlled, wary.

‘I know’ danced at the tip of his tongue. He bit it back, another thought surfacing. “Why?”

She didn’t meet his gaze.

“Why are you helping me?” he elaborated, barely suppressing the boiling beneath his skin, “Up until now, you’ve let those fuckers do whatever the hell they wanted to me, let them—” he couldn’t bring himself to finish, memories of darkness and pain and terror threatening to spill out again, of _begging_ for someone to save him, anyone, anything, please, just— “What’s with the sudden change? Kindness of your fucking heart?”

For several heartbeats, she didn’t reply. He was starting to think she was taking a trick from his book when she raised her head, a grimace spread across her face.

“We’ve both done awful things, Sanji, things we can’t take back. If our mother could see us.... As far as I’m concerned, this family dying out would be a great justice for the world,” she released a slow, shaky breath, “But maybe, if I’d helped you back then, if I’d let you escape, it never would’ve come to this. Maybe, things could’ve been different for you.”

Sanji was done listening, slamming the dented locker shut as he headed passed her. He didn’t want to hear this. Couldn’t care less about her ‘guilt,’ nor her thoughts on their mother. Stomped through the too bright hallway, attention on the task at hand, on killing the bastard and ending this all.

Didn’t stop, even when he heard a faint, “I’m sorry,” in the distance.

 

(100)

 

He didn’t bother grabbing a disguise on the way out nor did he search for the bastard. He’d make the fucker come to him. First phase would be to leave the kingdom. Didn’t give a shit about the cufflets on his wrists, didn’t give a shit about the tracker in his pocket. The latter was intentional, the cufflets a mild inconvenience. Whether they went off or not, he’d find some way to take the bastard down. To make him pay. Just needed a good spot to do it. Somewhere he’d have an advantage. Yeah. Yeah, then everyone would be safe. Everyone and everything would be okay.

For some reason, a prickle of doubt set in, as if he’d forgotten something, as if he was missing a piece to the puzzle, as if—

He shoved it away. He had everything under control.

Off in the distance, he could’ve sworn he heard shouts. Time to get started.

 

(101)

 

In the end, he’d decided a forest on Whole Cake Island was his best bet. Get Judge out of familiar territory, use the trees to separate him from his bodyguards. A single strike with his poisoned knife and it’d be over, he’d get to watch the fucker die. Watch him pay for everything he’d done. For imprisoning him, for letting his ‘brother’s do whatever they’d wanted to him—hell, giving them the literal fucking key to do so.

His chest was heaving, breaths fast and rapid, ears filled with static. Felt sick. Like he’d puke. Must be disgust. Disgust at himself for ever wanting that bastard’s acceptance. For being that desperate. For—

For—

His teeth were grinding with enough force to hurt. He may be worthless, may be a failure, a murderer, but at least he could take down one of the evilest fuckers in this world. Vivi would be proud. She’d told him to help others, right? What would be a better way than this?

Before he realized it, before he could stifle the urge, he was laughing. Didn’t know why, just that he _couldn’t stop._ Something told him he was hysterical, that his stent in the cellar had shaken him up too much, that he’d hardly slept in over a week, that he needed to rest, to regain his bearings. He ignored it. He was fine. About to be better.

He heard footsteps approaching.

Much better.

 

(102)

 

He left his Den Den Mushi tucked away beneath the gnarled roots of a tree, waiting in a perch not far off, knife readied, gaze unwavering. The trees had put up a feeble resistance at first—because of fucking course the plants in this shithole could talk—but they’d quieted quickly enough at the sight of his lighter and promises to burn each and every one of them alive.

Fuck his head hurt. Stomach was in knots. Had he been eating? He couldn’t recall. He must’ve. He never wasted.... His mind went oddly blank. What was it he didn’t waste? Couldn’t recall. Probably wasn’t important anyways.

 

(103)

 

An hour later, he wondered if the footsteps had been in his head. He’d heard footsteps. Hadn’t he? Must’ve. Yeah. Something like that had happened.

His eyelids were heavy, legs strangely numb, stomach aching like those times he’d gone without eating. Couldn’t fight like this. Retrieving a different knife, he twirled it around and jabbed it into the tree’s bark, eliciting a startled shriek.

“Food,” he said, short, simple. “Poisoned and I’ll kill you.”

Several ‘yes sir’s, and he had a pile of fudge on his lap, along with clumps of cotton candy and taffy. He’d probably have a heart attack if he ate all this shit but he didn’t have much of a choice, hunger already taking over. Hadn’t realized he was this hungry. When had he last eaten again?

 

(104)

 

He was nearly dozing off when a branch snapped below him. He jolted, fingers tightening along the hilt of his knife. Two Germa soldiers were beneath him, creeping around with their rifles raised. That coward must’ve sent the ‘expendable ones’ in first.

Once they’d made it to the Den Den Mushi, picking around, searching for him, another figure followed, green hair, hideous outfit. Yonji.

Not the bastard?

For a moment, Sanji simply watched him wander around, pausing briefly beneath the branch. Guess he could work with this.

Sanji dropped down on top of him.

 

(105)

 

“You’ll pay for this!!” Yonji was yelling, struggling against the roots wrapped around his chest like rope, tying him to the tree’s trunk. “And why the hell are you helping him!!?” he directed to said tree, “We’re allies!!”

“Not yet,” a bush snorted.

While a tulip whispered, “‘Cuz that guy’s _insane!_ He’s gonna burn us all alive! _”_

“What!? He’s just a worthless failure! He can’t do sh—”

Sanji promptly planted his shoe in Yonji’s face before retrieving his Den Den Mushi from where he’d stashed it. Sat on the root beside his captive with a thud and transmitted to the same line he always did whenever reporting the end of a mission.

Surprisingly, the bastard picked up immediately. Had he been waiting for this? _“You little piece of—”_

“I’d watch it if I were you, bastard,” Sanji grit out, spinning a knife around his fingers despite knowing the bastard couldn’t see it. “I have a few propositions for you, and if you don’t carry them out, well.... I can’t guarantee this shithead’s safety.”

“As if that puny knife could hurt me!” Yonji snorted, a brat among brats. “Don’t listen to him, father!”

“Sure did the job all those years ago,” Sanji remarked with a pointed look at the scar running down his ‘brother’s face.

Eyes lighting up with rage, Yonji opened his mouth to say something—something fucking idiotic knowing him—however, the bastard cut him off, tone grave and practically quivering with rage. Good.

_“What are your demands?”_

Sanji paused at that, searching the fog in his mind for answers. What had he wanted again? Must’ve remained silent much longer than he’d thought because Yonji released a bitter laugh.

“He doesn’t even know!! What an idiot!!”

A growl low in his throat, Sanji pulled the transceiver closer, “Bring my friends to me.”

Just doing that made his head thrum painfully and he pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyelids shut against the sensation.

_“..Have it your way.”_

Hesitated too long. Lying. Bastard was lying.

Shifting his fingers to run through his greasy bangs, he hung up. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, _shit._ He needed a plan, a solid fucking plan. Tried. Couldn’t think of anything. Could barely stand when he pushed himself up to pace, legs wobbly like he hadn’t walked in weeks. The migraine worsened when he tried to reflect on the truth of that statement, if there was any at all.

“The fuck is up with you?” an obnoxious voice asked.

Sanji ignored him in favor of tightening his grip on his head.

“You really think you can beat the great Germa army in that condition? We’ll crush you!!” the last bit was said with a tad more pride than Sanji liked.

He stopped walking, swiveling his gaze to rest on Yonji. Why was he so confident? He was tied up. Unless...

His heart gained speed, pattering against his ribs like a drum.

 _Unless_ he let Sanji catch him. _Unless_ this was all some ploy to recapture him! He had half a mind to storm over to the little weasel, but the other half, the half that faded more every minute, told him that would be impossible. That he was being paranoid. But what if he wasn’t? What if this was a trap, what if—

“What is it!?” Yonji demanded in a savory way, “Wanna fight!?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sanji snapped, and on that note, he started pacing again.

 

(106)

 

Couldn’t calm down. Every noise made him jump, every gust of wind demanded his attention, along with every broken branch and snicker from Yonji. His breaths were coming in rapid, eyes constantly scanning the forest, scanning behind him. Something was about to happen, he was sure of it. Some _thing_ was about to come. Things were about to go wrong. He didn’t know why or how—he just _knew_ in his bones.

Grass crunched beneath a shoe and static prickled up his spine and into his cerebellum, as it always did whenever a mission went sour. Whenever he knew he was in danger. Brushing a hand over his stomach, where a scar left by a certain Shichibukai’s hook lay, he sped up, ordering the tree trailing behind him to do the same. He’d left his Den Den Mushi in the center of a clearing this time, circling around it until he’d found a croppy overlook of rocks he could climb onto. He didn’t trust this. Wanted a constant view of his surroundings.

Yonji had gone silent an hour ago, a branch shoved into his mouth per Sanji’s orders. Had gotten tired of hearing his nasally voice. Fucker would probably give away their position anyways. Like he’d take that risk.

He had to kill the bastard. Had to. If he succeeded, everyone would be safe. His friends would be okay. It’d all be okay again.

Closed his eyes as he nodded along. Could barely bring himself to pry them open again, nausea threatening to overpower him as the scenery swirled around.

He didn’t know _how_ things would be okay after this, but surely they would. Surely they’d—

His train of thought derailed abruptly at the sight of the bastard stepping out of the treeline, a swarm of Germa soldiers at his heels. Not as many as Sanji had expected. Why was that?

A snort of laughter from Yonji’s direction, and something hard pressed against the base of Sanji’s skull.

“Ah, shi—”

_WHACK!!_

What felt like a foot smashed between his shoulder blades, sending him skittering across the rocks, nearly falling off the cliff. He propped himself up on his hands and knees, mind a whirlwind of exhaustion and pain.

“Been a while, Sanji.”

Just like that, everything in him froze. Dread curdling in his gut like spoiled milk, he rolled over to face them, fingers clinging to the smaller rocks like a lifeline. Ichiji was towering over him, pistol lazily aimed at his chest, smirk spread across his lips.

“Fighting back like this?” he went on, footsteps drawing nearer, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Pathetic more like it,” someone huffed out a laugh, a someone he quickly identified as Niji. “‘I want to save my friends,’ what a joke!!”

Ichiji’s smirk grew larger, head tipping to the side, “Yes if I’ve heard correctly, the peasants are being used to draw out the rest of their crew.”

At that, Sanji remembered to breathe, drawing in a gulp of air as he raised his chin to meet Ichiji’s gaze, “What?”

A beat of silence, then a laugh, “Normally they would’ve been put to death already, like those nurses from way back when, but Big Mom insisted we hand them over to her custody, and we didn’t want to rock the boat so early into our alliance.”

A branch snapped, a cry of pain, Niji and Yonji entering his peripheral vision. Couldn’t bring himself to see what had happened, eyes locked on Ichiji as the world around him began to shake. It was only when a pitying look from Yonji was cast his way, he realized that _he_ was the one shaking.

“..What?”

Silence.

“What did you just say?” he choked out, “About the nurses?

What about...?”

A sigh that rang of disappointment scraped the inside of his ears, “And here I thought your time spent running solo ops would’ve toughened you up, Sanji.”

Ichiji kept talking, but Sanji could hardly hear. Felt sick. Skin was too hot yet too cold, squeezing him like a cage, like a suit that didn’t fit, that he desperately wanted to claw his way out of.

“We couldn’t risk your connection to us getting out back then out of fear of you shaming us, so naturally we had to purge the entire hospital.”

Images passed through his head, reassuring smiles, kind words, the Head Nurse chewing him out for breaking in to see his mother again. The shaking worsened, another flash of hot and cold nearly sending him to the ground.

“You’d take it that far?”

Ichiji opened his mouth—

 

_“SANJI!!”_

 

“Eh?”

That voice... Blinking, Sanji tore his gaze away, scanning the cliff, the clearing beneath it, until—

Until—

“Luffy?”

Before he could process his own words, a shape shot from the treeline, slamming into Ichiji and sending him tumbling down the hill. The pistol went off, a bullet slicing the skin on Sanji’s arm. With a pained hiss, he clasped a hand over it, blood already gushing to his elbow. He didn’t care.

Luffy was here? Why was Luffy here!?

“Sanji!! I’ve been lookin’ for you _everywhere!!”_ Luffy was saying, standing in front of Sanji as if nothing had taken place, fist still raised and speckled in red.

Had he made Ichiji bleed?

“What’re you doing out here!? And why was that other Sanji about to shoot you!?”

“Uh,” Sanji answered intelligently.

Luffy stared as though waiting for a reply, and Sanji took note of the shitty disguise he’d put on, hat covered in some sheet and his normal vest traded for a white one. It was Sabo’s level of bad.

“What’re you..?”

“I came to pick you up!”

Pick him up? Luffy was strong enough, but coming all this way for something like that was just.... Sanji felt another bout of haziness come over him and pointedly squeezed the cut on his arm, hoping the pain would snap him out of it.

Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off Sanji, cheerfulness gone, replaced by some other emotion Sanji couldn’t identify.

“So this is Monkey D. Luffy,” he heard Yonji murmur, while Niji simply scowled at them, then at Ichiji, who was already getting to his feet.

“Let’s take him out,” Niji said after another beat had passed, leg shifting to spring.

Alarm bells went off in Sanji’s brain. Was about to shout for Luffy to dodge when a gust of wind shot over his head, sending his bangs into a flurry. Except, it wasn’t a breeze, he realized, when something smacked into Niji’s chest, exploding into a smokescreen that had the entire cliff covered in an instant.

Next thing he knew, Luffy was grabbing his arm, and Sanji only had enough forethought to unsheathe a knife before they were plunging off the cliff into the army of soldiers waiting beneath. Landed with his feet on some poor shithead’s stomach, knocking him to the dirt and using him as a springboard.

Luffy had already taken down all the guys surrounding him like bowling pins, charging into the thick of the crowd without a second of hesitation. Sanji was right behind him.

His reaction time was delayed though, he knew it, knife clumsily raised to parry a sword, barely managing to sidestep a blow that would’ve broken his ribs into smithereens. Only fully escaped the latter thanks to yet another capsule shooting passed him, this time hitting the enemy square in the face.

Followed the trajectory to the treeline, where a figure was standing, the largest slingshot Sanji had ever seen held in their hands. When they noticed Sanji looking, they flashed him a thumbs up. Usopp.

Of course, that’s when another soldier attacked him, this time a woman, smashing the butt of her rifle into his stomach. He doubled over. Barely rolled out of the way as bullets spattered the place he’d been kneeling.

Already, his muscles were burning, lungs gasping for air, vision unfocused. At this rate...

The crowd dispersed as Luffy smashed a tree trunk sized foot into the ground, shattering it, revealing a certain bastard standing near the treeline, spear in hand, eyes focused, flickering between the fighting figures. Waiting to launch a surprise attack.

A surge of anger pulsing through him, Sanji grit his teeth hard enough to hurt, hand moving mechanically for the pocket he’d stashed that knife. Now or never. Shoving himself to his feet, he made his way through the chaos, ducking and weaving, elbowing and shoving, until he was bursting into a sliver of a clearing, the bastard already waiting with his spear readied several yards away.

“You’re going to go through with this marriage, Sanji,” he was declaring—the prick. “Even if I have to drag you there myself!!”

“Just try it,” Sanji retorted, though it was spoken so low, he doubted the bastard heard. Not that he would’ve listened anyways.

In a blur of movement, the bastard shot into the sky, ankles glowing, spear overhead. For a moment, Sanji simply watched, processing, then as a shadow covered him, he realized he should be dodging. Barely managed it, trying to roll but it was more of a tumble, legs weak as jelly, head throbbing worse than ever. Dirt exploded near his shoulder, bolts of electricity making the world flash white, debris flying everywhere, smacking into him. Heaved himself to a knee, knife gripped tight.

“Three years,” Sanji murmured, suddenly unable to bear the sight of that bastard, “You left me in that hell to rot for _three years._ Why didn’t you just kill me? As small as I was, it would’ve been easy for you, and if you were worried about cruelty, you could’ve just as easily ordered the soldiers to smother me in my sleep.”

Sanji tried to regain his bearings as the bastard formed a reply, tried to make the thrumming _stop,_ but he couldn’t, and his head hurt, and he was so fucking tired, and everything was spinning and—

“I already considered such options long ago,” the bastard admitted, drawing closer, “But as much as it pains me to say, my blood flows through your veins. Killing you directly was a feat my humanity wouldn’t allow.”

Sanji had already expected that answer. Had already known the bastard hadn’t had the guts, finding it much easier to send him on suicide missions and claim it was Sanji’s own fault when they went sour. Fucking coward. As if he had a scrap of humanity in him.

“You say all that shit, but you didn’t give a damn about driving your wife to her death, nor did stripping your own kids of their emotions faze you in the slightest.”

The bastard wasn’t listening anymore—typical—already charging with his spear held high, yelling about the pride of Germa and all kinds of shit Sanji couldn’t care less about. Instead, he studied the spear shooting for him. Didn’t think to dodge, not even as the tip sliced off his tie, inches from skewering him along with it. Would’ve, if a plant hadn’t sprung to life between them, vines coiling around the weapon and up the bastard’s arms. Left him vulnerable.

Heard Usopp shout in the distance, noted his slingshot was pointed towards them. Couldn’t figure out why, nor did he dwell on it, grabbing the spear’s hilt and planting his foot firmly into the bastard’s solar plexus. Sent him tumbling backward with the force, collapsing to a knee, much like Sanji had been moments ago.

_Now!!_

Abandoning the spear, he twirled his knife around, more than ready to end this once and for all. Ignored the part of him instinctually cringing away from this, away from killing his own blood. He had to do this. Had to.

For an instant, the pain and exhaustion faded, replaced by the same grim determination he usually felt near the more gruesome parts of his job. Refused to falter, even as his knife plunged down.

Speckles of red spiraled upwards, blurring, pattering onto his sleeve.

Slowly, he registered what’d happened, the hand that’d grabbed his knife, the fingers wrapped around the blade already soaked in blood. A heartbeat passed, the sound of something cracking, the blade shattering into pieces, crushed in a fist that retreated. A heaving breath, two, three, while Sanji looked on in shock, not breathing at all.

“Sanji...” stopped long enough to take another gulp of air before yelling, _“What the hell are you doing!!?”_

“Lu..ffy...” he stuttered, words rolling off his tongue without permission. “What are..?”

Then, the anger followed.

Grabbing Luffy by the front of his vest, Sanji yanked him closer, stumbling to fill the gap between them, not caring about the blood dripping from a half-closed fist, nor the scratches scattered along Luffy’s arms and cheeks.

“Get the hell out my way Luffy!! This is none of your business, damn it!!”

Luffy didn’t reply, simply staring with an unreadable scowl.

The weeks he’d spent imprisoned, the mocking sneers, the sickening laughs, the stress, and helplessness, it all came crashing back to him like a blow to the gut.

Before he could process it, he was already lashing out; a Haki coated fist smashing into Luffy’s jaw with enough force to send him skidding into the dirt.

“You fucking bastard!! What the hell do you know!!?”

Luffy pushed himself to his feet, rubbing the color already blossoming on his jaw. Still had that expression. Seeing it was like hot coals heaping on his head.

“Damn you...” was already charging, this time, bashing a Haki covered knee into Luffy’s gut. “Get the hell out of here!!”

Knew that hurt, saw it in his eyes, in every part of his body as he hit the ground, as he lay there coughing. Yet, he was soon standing again, firmly planted between Sanji and the bastard.

“You don’t know shit!!” Sanji snapped, rushing him, jerking him up by the front of his vest. Slugged him. Again and again and again and again.

Shifting his weight to his left, he slung Luffy over his shoulder, sending him rolling several feet away.

“Screw you, always dragging everyone along with your selfish fucking whims! I’m not one of your crewmates, damn it, why can’t you just leave me the hell alone already!!?”

Thought it was over. Loosened his grip on the broken knife’s hilt, began to walk away. Then, Luffy was up again, staggering, covered in dirt. For a moment, his image overlapped with another, Luffy’s eyes seeming to grow round, to grow curious, _“Say, are you a cook?”_

“Sanji,”

Sanji flinched. Whether from the memory or Luffy, he didn’t know.

Rather than yell, rather than glare at him like the trash he was, Luffy still looked on calmly, “Feel better now?”

Opened his mouth, closed it. Didn’t understand. Was Luffy mocking him? No, Luffy wasn’t like that. This didn’t make any sense. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

That seemed answer enough to Luffy, who grinned despite the faint yellow and brown crescents already forming along his cheeks, despite the blood dripping from his nose, the ring around his left eye.

“That’s good,” he said, “Honestly, Sanji, you can be so dumb sometimes. We’re friends. Of course, I’d come.”

“..Eh?”

His legs were weak. Crumpled. Couldn’t move, couldn’t even think to, the strength he’d gathered dissipating as if it’d never existed. Sat there longer than he should’ve in a silence no one seemed willing to break. Wanted a cigarette.

“What about Nami?” he managed, “And Chopper? And Brook? Your crewmates are in trouble, you know.”

“Nami and the rest are fine,” Luffy dismissed easily.

Sanji was tempted to argue, but there was something there, something in the way Luffy spoke that made him believe. Made him believe in everything about Luffy, his dream, his strength, _everything._ Wondered if this was how Robin felt at Enies Lobby. Damn it.

“Jinbei already explained everything,” he continued, smile taking a serious tint, “Zoro and the others should be getting them right now.”

Felt like he should know that name.

“So, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to do this for us.”

Deciding he needed that cigarette, Sanji shuffled until his knees were close to his chest, a hand dug into his pocket while Luffy rubbed his bloodied nose on his arm.

“Enough,” the bastard grunted, drawing their focus to him once more, “Weapon!”

Per command, several of the soldiers held out their swords, bowing their heads in the most sincere signs of respect.

“Bastard,” Sanji spat out, hands shaking to such an extent, he almost dropped his lighter, “He’d attack you even after you saved him!”

Luffy didn’t react beyond shooting an expressionless glance over his shoulder. A heartbeat passed, then he was shifting, a hand pushing his hat in place, a gesture Sanji recognized as Luffy getting serious.

“Sanji. I’ll handle this.” without a pause in between, Luffy was squaring off against the bastard, a finger jabbed his way, “Hey, helmet guy!! You’re Sanji’s ‘Captain,’ aren’t you? I’m gonna kick your ass and take Sanji as my cook!”

The bastard wasn’t amused, clutching his sword tight enough to strangle it. “Challenging me? How arrogant!”

Sanji didn’t know how to handle this. Looked at the scattered soldiers watching, his brothers gaping from the rocks, Usopp at the other side of the clearing, none seeming sure what to do either. Looked passed Luffy, to the bastard glaring like he wanted nothing more than to skewer them both. Felt something akin to desperation pulse through his nerves like a shockwave.

“Oi, don’t joke around, Luffy!! I—”

“Joking?” Luffy interrupted without tearing his gaze from the bastard, “As if I’d joke about something like this.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve known him a long time, haven’t you?” Luffy asked, and it occurred to Sanji he had no clue what his real relation to Germa was.

Wasn’t about to break the news, far more interested in studying the cigarette between his fingers.

A sigh that sounded exasperated, “You’re always doing this. You have to kill those guys to keep Nami safe, you have to save Alabasta for Vivi, you have to kill my dad, but Sanji, what do _you_ want!!?”

Started to reply, broke off, thought better of it.

What he wanted. What would that be? Didn’t he... Didn’t he want this? He’d certainly told himself that enough.

While the soldiers gathered to watch the show, Sanji focused on the dirt beneath his knees. What he wanted. Why couldn’t he answer such a simple question anymore? Hadn’t he before? Hadn’t he told Nami about the All Blue?

The duel had started, Luffy leaping into the air, shooting his foot at Judge like a bullet.

In all honesty, there were plenty of things Sanji wanted, weren’t there? To cook, to flirt with the ladies, to be a powerful fighter, to search for the All Blue... just to be sure. This revelation didn’t satisfy him. No. There was more, and he knew it. A nagging itch he’d had since meeting Luffy in the bar that day, one that’d followed him around no matter how much he’d rejected it, no matter what he’d done to _make it go away._

He wanted... more than anything, he.... he’d always...

“Luffy!!”

Luffy slowed a tinge, turning enough so that Sanji could meet his eyes.

“I wanna go back to the Sunny!!”

Luffy was dodging another blow, and Sanji was afraid to watch, afraid of what he’d say, what he’d do, that even after all the times he’d chased him down, hounding him to join, Luffy would reject him. Would notice how worthless he was. It wasn’t until he heard a cheerful shout that he realized Luffy was right. That he truly was a hopeless moron.

 

_“FINALLY!!”_

 

The cry slammed into the clearing with the force of a tidal wave, startling Sanji. A whoop from Usopp’s direction soon followed.

“Sanji!!”

Snapped his head up, watching Luffy dive out of the way of a sword, gaze bright with concentration, “I’ll definitely bring you back home!!” hopping backward, he blew on his thumb, making his fist the size of an elephant and coating it in Haki. “So make me a feast when this is all over!!”

On that note, he slammed it into the bastard with enough force to shatter the world beneath them, chunks of dirt and rock scattered as though a hurricane had blown through.

Sanji shielded his head, breath frozen in his lungs, wind threatening to bowl him over. Cigarette had been wasted, blown who-knows-where, but he couldn’t care less, far more interested in the giant crater Luffy was standing over.

Looked at Sanji, grinning unrepentantly.

Sanji considered returning it. Might have, if not for the shadow that covered Luffy. Before he could question it, before he could reconsider, he was already racing forward, hilt gripped tightly in his hands. Could’ve used the sharp pieces left behind, could’ve killed him, but instead, he pivoted on a heel, smashing his foot into the bastard’s gut and sending him tumbling into the hole again. The sword spiraled uselessly overhead, burying itself into the dirt inches from them.

“Give it up. It’s over.”

A snicker from beside him, Luffy turning with a ‘thanks’ that was sincere enough to make his chest flood with warmth. Meanwhile, the bastard pushed himself upright again, wobbled, fell.

“I want nothing to do with you people anymore.”

All the times Sanji had fantasized saying this had tricked him into believing it would be an uplifting moment. That the heavyweight of his childhood would vanish immediately, along with the bitter feelings and desire to be loved by his family. He only felt empty. Felt the loss of a bond he’d never had, never would. This entire situation was shit, and he was still pissed, still hurting, but Luffy was right. They weren’t worth it. Weren’t worth a damn thing.

As he tossed the hilt aside, he couldn’t recall a time he’d seen Luffy look prouder.

A second later, someone was tapping his shoulder, flower petals scattering on the breeze. When he turned, Robin was there, grinning, pulling him into her arms, hands carefully avoiding his back.

Yet, he didn’t fully relax, _couldn’t_ fully relax, until he’d noticed everyone was there, Nami and Chopper standing by Usopp, Zoro already at Luffy’s side where he belonged, Franky with Brook and some fishman, blowing his nose into a handkerchief as he screamed proclamations of love for them.

Closed his eyes, finally feeling safe again, finally feeling right, until—

“Ah. Luffy, that knife was poisoned, you know.”

On cue, Luffy dropped to the ground, foam spewing from his mouth.

_“AHHHH LUFFY!!”_

 

(107)

 

“It looks like the poison faded over the years,” Sanji murmured, ducking behind a low-hanging tree, “Otherwise, he’d already be dead. Good thing I didn’t actually use it.”

Would’ve ended badly.

“IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY!!?” Nami and Chopper shrieked in sync.

He’d forgotten how loud they were. Rubbing at his temples, he said, “Is he gonna be all right?”

At that, Chopper sniffled, “I’m not sure. I’ve done all I can, but Luffy should be immune to poisons in the first place!!”

Sanji considered asking. Opted not to. Figured any explanation given would be too hard to process in his condition.

Somebody crouched beside them, and shit, Sanji hadn’t noticed the guy until now.

“Law?” Nami asked, voice tinged with hope. “Can’t you give Luffy the same treatment you gave those kids back in Punk Hazard?”

“I’d need an enclosed space for that treatment, Nami-ya,” Law replied, “Otherwise, I may wind up losing some of his body parts.”

Sanji decided asking about _that_ would be out of his cognitive abilities as well.

Crunching grass, Zoro was marching over from where he’d been keeping watch. “Then just pick him up and carry him to the ship for now. We’re still being pursued, we don’t have time to deal with these two idiot’s crap.”

“‘Pursued?’” Sanji repeated blankly.

Zoro looked at him as if he’d said something worrying. For some reason, everyone else had fallen silent as well, staring at him with varying amounts of pity or shock. Stayed that way until Chopper edged closer, hoofs pressed together at his chest.

“S-Sanji, don’t you remember? Big Mom’s army attacked us. They started fighting with Germa.”

Sanji blinked. Had something like that taken place? Speaking of which, how long had they been sitting here? Better yet, how long—?

World was spinning and flying towards him at the same instant. Didn’t process he’d collapsed until Chopper was practically leaping onto him, yelling words he couldn’t understand.

Rather than fight the feeling, he reached out a hand, clamping it around Chopper’s furry arm and choking out, “R-Reiju. F-Find— R-Reiju can—”

He could never recall if he’d finished that sentence or not.

 

(108)

 

Sanji had forgotten about the cufflets. That was his first thought upon waking from a coma. It was almost laughable. After everything he’d gone through, everything that’d happened, all the time he’d wasted fucking sleeping, his first thought was that Reiju had saved him. Had given him fakes. What else could it be!? According to Chopper, they’d been sailing for over a week since escaping Germa. If the explosives were real, his hands would’ve already been blown clean off.

Considering he’d been glaring at his perfectly intact hands for over five minutes, that hadn’t happened. Almost wished it had. Cursing her name and never thinking of her again would be so much easier. As things stood, not only had she saved his ass three times over, leaving the tracker with Luffy, getting him out of the cellar, switching out the cuffs for fakes; but she’d also saved Luffy’s life.

That was the sole deduction he could reach after hearing the rubber idiot bouncing around above deck. If they’d gone the traditional route, Luffy would likely be laid out in the bed beside him. Didn’t matter how skilled Law and Chopper were, didn’t matter how much it’d faded, nor how resilient Luffy was, Sanji had bought _high-class_ poison. Had intended to kill Monkey D. fucking Dragon with it, no way in hell he would’ve skimped out on quality.

When he’d told Usopp that, he’d snorted out a laugh, “Oi, don’t be so sure about that, Luffy’s gotten even more logic-defying over the years.”

Sanji wasn’t sure about that, though decided to take his word for it. Usopp knew stuff like that.

“You’ve defied logic yourself,” Sanji remarked, reaching for a smoke, “How did you bulk up like that, did you gain a whole lot of weight or something?”

Usopp visibly stiffened over the giant fucking slingshot he was making repairs to, red crawling up his neck, “N-No, of course not, why would you— why would you think that!!? I, the Great Captain Usopp just happen to have an excellent training regime and dietary routine!!”

“Diet?”

This time, Usopp nearly fell off the stool, desperately trying to catch his slingshot before it hit the floor of the makeshift Infirmary. “Ah, uh, f-forget about that already!! Anyways should you really be smoking right now!? Won’t Chopper get mad!?”

Sanji considered that for a fraction of second before popping it in his mouth regardless. “I’ve been in a coma for about a week, can’t I at least have this much?”

Wasn’t sure he could survive without his smokes. Guess that made five times Reiju had saved him.

Usopp didn’t seem impressed with his reasoning. “He only stepped out to tell Luffy and the others you’re awake now, Sanji. He’ll be back any minute.”

“I’ll just have to make this one fast then.”

“How fast do you plan on smoking it!!?”

 

_“SANJIIII!!”_

 

At a shout from down the hall, they both paused and looked to the door. Usopp was the first to react, hopping to his feet and tugging at his hair.

“AHH!! This is bad—Luffy’s coming!! Put that out, Sanji!! I’m supposed to be watching you!! Chopper’s gonna yell at me, you know!!”

“Like hell I will!” Sanji retorted without missing a beat, shifting so that a shoulder was protectively between Usopp and his cigarette.

A good thing too, because Usopp dropped his slingshot and dove onto the bed, grappling for the damned thing with everything he had. Which was more than enough given the condition Sanji was in. Not that he’d surrender without a fight!

By the time the door had sauntered open, the two of them were fending the other off for dear life, Sanji shoving Usopp away with an elbow to his neck, Usopp feebly clawing for the cigarette with one hand while the other tried to pry Sanji’s arm off.

A resolute sigh, that sounded nothing like Luffy _or_ Chopper, “Would you two doofuses knock it off already!?”

Didn’t give them a chance to comply before a pair of fists were rocketing into their heads. He’d recognize that incredibly powerful yet lovely fist anywhere!

“N-Nami!!”

An icy glare met his swooning grin. He promptly sobered and averted his eyes.

“Well?” she sniffed, plopping onto the stool Usopp had been using and crossing her legs. “You have anything to say for yourself?”

Usopp shifted until he was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, trying to be discreet as he glanced between them. Failing. Moron.

Sanji studied his knuckles, the scars littering them, some from combat, some from accidents in the Kitchen.

“After everything we were put through because of you, don’t think I’ll let you off easy. And that’s not even counting how you stood us up!”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

“Because of your actions, you’re debt has been tripled by eight billion Berry,” she informed him in a business-like tone, “I expect payment up front.”

“Y-Yes Nami.”

 _“And,_ for almost breaking your promise to me, that’s an additional three billion Berry!!”

For a moment, Sanji stared, not knowing what she meant. Then, he remembered that night two years ago, remembered telling Nami about the All Blue, remembered her insisting he take her there someday.

“And another two billion for forgetting,” she tacked on, tone cold enough to send chills down his spine.

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

Was too terrified to do anything besides agree. Usopp winced at him in sympathy.

Apparently satisfied, Nami nodded, “Good.”

Hopping to her feet, she headed for the door, pausing briefly enough to cast him a smile. “Welcome back.”

She was gone before he could reply. For several seconds, the only sound to fill the room was the occasional wave sloshing against the outside of the ship. Then, Sanji fell over, joy crashing into him.

“Nami welcomed me back!! She must be in love with me!!”

“Oi...” a pause, “Hey, now that I think about it, where’s Luffy?”

Sanji blinked, pushing himself up on unsteady arms, “No clue. I would’ve thought he’d be crashing in here by now.”

“Yeah, same here,” Usopp said, eyes raking over the room as if Luffy could be hiding somewhere inside. “I wonder—”

Footsteps thudded in the distance, growing louder and louder until the door was literally being kicked open, Luffy sliding in with a steaming bowl cradled in his arms. Thankfully, Usopp seemed every bit as perplexed as Sanji, raising a hesitant finger towards the bowl.

“Uh, Luffy... what’s that?”

With wider than life grin, Luffy shoved it closer, revealing that, no, it hadn’t been steam drifting from the bowl, it was a purple miasma. He had no idea what the fuck Luffy was holding, but he wanted it the hell away from him.

“I figured you’d be hungry!” Luffy said, then, his smile twitched, and he looked almost... nervous? What the fuck. “I’m not very good at cooking though.”

Then it hit him. _Luffy_ had made that insult to cooking itself.

Usopp opened his mouth, probably to say something similar. Sanji kicked him, hard.

“That so?” he asked, taking the bowl from Luffy. Upon closer inspection, he wasn’t sure all of this had even been cooked. Was fairly certain that fish floating around was still clinging to life, actually. The rest was overcooked to the point of resembling molten igneous rocks.

While Sanji poked at the whatever-the-fuck this was supposed to be, Luffy babbled on and on about how he’d made it, catching the fish himself—because, yes, he had thrown it right in the broth without cooking it—putting meat he’d somehow managed to keep in his pocket for over a day in there, and by the end of it, Sanji felt his appetite slip away. He’d barely eaten in over two weeks. That took talent.

Luffy watched him expectantly, smile unwavering.

 _Do it for him,_ Sanji told himself.

Fished the spoon out of the broth—and shit, why was it so thick!? What the fuck—no, don’t question it. Don’t go there.

Usopp’s skin was turning ashen, head slowly shaking as his eyes practically screamed: “Don’t, you’ll die!”

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Sanji took a spoonful of the broth, thick enough to be pudding, and promptly shoved it into his mouth. A thought struck him.

“Is there Cola in this?”

Luffy’s mouth fell open, “Oh!! I forgot!! Franky wanted you to feel better too, so he told me to give you some!!”

Sanji highly doubted Franky had meant ‘add it to the soup.’ At least, he really hoped not. He took another spoonful.

“Is that an entire tangerine?”

And why had he cooked _that_ but not the fish?

“Yeah!! Nami said those are good for you, so I put it in!!” he sounded so proud of himself Sanji couldn’t bring himself to say anything. “The fish was Zoro’s idea, though!”

Pictured the mosshead smirking somewhere aboard the ship. That bastard.

A puff of air, Usopp was trying to muffle a laugh into his palm.

“Though I ‘ppreciate it, Cap’n, I’m not feeling up for fish, right now,” Sanji said, plucking it out and tossing it to Usopp, who scrambled to catch it, realizing at an astounding rate he’d be beaten within an inch of his life if he didn’t. “Usopp was just saying how hungry he was though.”

First lie he’d ever made convincing, and it was over something petty. He was proud of that.

Rather than be offended, Luffy was practically glowing as he turned to Usopp, “What, really!? Usopp, eat some!!”

If looks could kill, Sanji would be dead ten times over. He hid a smirk behind another spoonful. Shit, this was the weirdest flavor. Was there actual seawater in this!? Would explain how the fish survived as long as it had.

Usopp’s grayish skin promptly turned green, “I-I’m not really...”

Luffy’s grin remained, eyes glimmering with hope.

“I—” Usopp broke off, head bowing. Sanji was starting to think he’d broken when Usopp tipped his chin up, tears streaming down his cheeks as he declared, “I love my fish like this!!”

Almost gagged as Usopp proceeded to swallow it whole, fainting on the mattress mere seconds afterward.

Sanji had finished his soup from hell at this point, setting it on the desk next to him. “Thanks, Cap’n, it was delicious.”

“No problem!” Luffy replied, and he was laughing again, that shitty laugh that pissed off and warmed Sanji to no end.

“Luffy,”

“Yeah?”

“You sure about this?”

A beat of silence yet it felt like decades. Sanji was sure Luffy must’ve changed his mind, because, why else would that moron be quiet!? He was never quiet!! Heart was pounding, then the mattress dipped, and Luffy was sitting there, hat in his hands.

“Sanji. You worry too much. ‘Course I want you here.”

And there it was, after years of being rejected, of being thrown into hell in hopes he’d burn, someone actually _wanted him._ Wanted him around. Wanted him despite everything he’d done.

Throat tightening in the beginnings of a sob, he swiveled his gaze away, not wanting Luffy to see. Without a word, Luffy shoved his hat onto Sanji’s head, tipped in such a way, it covered the upper half of his face. Heard Luffy jump to the floor, felt him pat his shoulder reassuringly.

“S’okay Sanji,” he said, as if it was such a simple thing, “We’re all friends.”

Sanji cried until he couldn’t any longer, Luffy a comforting presence at his side, never speaking, never interrupting. When he was done, he tried to return the hat, but Luffy declined, insisting he keep it for the rest of the day, much to Sanji’s confusion. He’d obliged, however, keeping it on as he prepared the feast Luffy had requested on Whole Cake Island—always a selfish bastard, though warmth swept over him at the thought.

Zoro used his actual fucking name not long after, a feat Sanji hadn’t known him capable of, and they’d had a drink together, discussing Kaido, Jinbei joining the crew, making fun of Law. Ended up having their bodies swapped around for a full hour thanks to the latter. Sensitive bastard.

By the time they’d arrived at Zou, where some brat named Momo was waiting on the Sunny, things were relatively back to normal, and he reflected, though he regretted standing them up in Sabaody, maybe it had been for the best if it had lead to this.

Being with them may not solve all his problems, may not erase the things he’d done, the things that’d been done to him, but—

Luffy rocketed onto the Sunny with a joyful shout, Usopp and Chopper not far behind, the rest watching from the railing, grinning at the younger members while Nami created a path of cloud to walk across.

—it was a start.

 

(109)

 

“Luffy,”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

A laugh, “Of course!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, I AM FREE!!! AHH I suck at endings but I feel somewhat content w this one, just let me know if I left any loose ends behind and I'll try to make the proper corrections! Anyways thanks for all the nice reviews, and for sticking with it this far even tho it's so slow at updating! Couldn't have finished it without your support!!


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